


Between The Wars

by OpalBee



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 226,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalBee/pseuds/OpalBee
Summary: With spring came the time for fresh growth, and fresh starts. When Mitchell Rivera moved bayside, the most he hoped for, if hope was what you'd call it, was a comfortable place to finish raising his daughter and grow old in, the way he and Alex had intended. The loss of Alex had derailed all the plans they'd made together, but he could manage to fulfill just this one.  For his daughter, he would try to start over, just a little, try to find some glimmers of happiness for himself in between the dark times, because they were never far away.Sometimes though...sometimes things worked out in unexpected ways, and sometimes...sometimes Fate was kind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go to the end notes for further content warnings and comments before reading, if you need to.

_Don't cry._

It had been nearly two years. Why was it still so hard sometimes?

"Pop?"

I sucked in a sharp breath and closed up the box. Not today. Tomorrow. I'd unpack the pictures tomorrow. Maybe.

Amanda knelt down beside me and put her hand over mine to stop my fussing with the loose packing tape. " _Dad_ ," she stressed. "It's okay. It doesn't have to all get done right away. We just got here a few hours ago."

"I just--" My voice caught and I cleared my throat, trying to force the thick feeling away. "I want this to feel like home. For you." I doubted it would ever feel like that for me, but I wanted that for her. Even the old place hadn't felt like home after Alex had…well, after Alex. Eighteen years we'd lived together in that house, the two of us, and we'd had Amanda for sixteen of it.

For sixteen years we had been three, and then for the last nearly two years it had been just me and our daughter. I'd lived in that townhouse on the north side of town for twenty years altogether. Twenty years, and now it felt like I'd imagined it all.

She sighed and leaned against me, and I gripped her hand, maybe a little too tightly. "I miss him too, Daddy," she mumbled.

Of course she knew what the real problem was, my clever daughter. She had always been mine more than Alex's, though he had loved her dearly. With all his traveling and the sometimes long hours he'd worked as a business strategy consultant, and my working from home, I had been the one to do most of the child-raising. Alex had spent every free moment he had with Amanda, with both of us, but it had been me who had taken her to every doctor's appointment, every dentist and orthodontist visit, me who had gone to every parent-teacher conference and field trip, who was always there when she came home from school, who had taken her to buy her first bra, who had helped her through puberty, and after… After Alex was gone, I had sat and cried with her through her first broken heart, even while mine was still bleeding.

Nearly two years since Alex had died, and unpacking the pictures was making it hurt all over again, even though the same damn pictures had hung on the walls of the old house all this time. It wasn't as if I didn't understand why I felt this way, or that it was a temporary surge of grief. I'd spent enough of my thirties in therapy to know myself all too well. I'd sold the old house partly because I wanted to move on. It was only partly, but that had been one of the reasons. New house, new start. And if I was going to make that new start, I wanted it to be now, while I still had my girl with me. It was getting ever closer to the end of the school year, and once summer was gone, she would be too.

I would much rather be rattling around alone in a new house than one that was haunted by memories of Alex. I'd rather not be rattling around alone at all, to be honest. It was only lately that I'd started feeling like maybe, just maybe, I could start thinking about a future of my own, separate from my daughter. But I wasn't young any more. I wasn't the same person I was before I lost Alex, and even then it still amazed me at times that the person I had been 24 years ago had been able to find and keep someone as wonderful as him. That kind of lightning didn't strike twice, but maybe I could find someone to grow old with. Someone comfortable. Maybe.

Amanda gave my hand a squeeze as she said in a bright voice, "Hey, let's get out for a bit, okay? Take a walk around the neighborhood, like we said we were going to." I hesitated a moment too long, as she added, "That was why we picked the house, right? 'Cause it's so close to everything." She jumped to her feet and gave my hand a tug. "C'mon old man, up and at 'em. There's a coffee shop just around the corner. Something tells me you could use a cup of the ol' bean juice."

She was right, of course. I was starting to get a headache from the lack of coffee and the effort of not crying. And we had moved here to be close to restaurants and shops and galleries, so what better time to check them out than now, before Amanda went back to school and I went back to work, such as it was. Frankly right now I would have preferred making my own coffee and curling up on the couch, and not trying to interact with complete strangers while I was sad, but I'd done harder things for my daughter than this.

Old man though? That stung, but she wasn't wrong.

We'd both wanted to move downtown, though as downtowns went it was small and quiet. We'd lived on the north side ever since Alex and I moved out here a few years after college. We hadn't frequented downtown Maple Bay much, preferring to go up to Boston. This was...nice, though. The neighborhood was kept up well. Houses painted, flowers in the yards. We'd lived across the street from a park while Amanda was growing up, so the lack of a backyard behind our townhouse hadn't been an issue, but I wanted to have one now. I wanted to grow a garden, with veggies to eat and flowers to paint, if I could ever bring myself to paint again. It was another of those aforementioned reasons I'd bought the house, with its big cherry tree in the backyard, which was just at the tail end of blooming. So many reasons, and yet it was so hard to feel happy today.

We started the short walk to the coffee shop around the corner, smiling and nodding to the people who greeted us. Maple Bay had always been welcoming, and the folks in this neighborhood seemed especially friendly. I hadn't met any of the neighbors yet. Amanda would no doubt make friends with all of them before I got any introductions. The houses on our cul-de-sac were as well kept as the others I saw nearby, well, most of them anyway, and someone had been keeping up ours while it was on the market. A couple of the houses were, well, quirky, for lack of a better word, but that wasn't a bad thing. I hoped. But even those had decent front yards--

Dear god, I didn't have a lawnmower.

The thought nearly stopped me in my tracks. How was I going to be a proper dad who was obsessed with his lawn without possessing a lawnmower? And there wasn't one in the garage. Our house was smack dab in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The moment you pulled onto our street our house was right in the crosshairs.

I was struck with momentary panic, before I talked myself down. I could buy a lawnmower. This was not an insurmountable problem. It wasn't a problem at all. I could even hire a landscaping company to come once a week, though I was reluctant to have that kind of ongoing expense, especially with Amanda starting college later this summer, and really, wasn't having a yard I could work in one of those aforementioned many reasons for moving here? I'd have to tell myself that again and again, until it stuck.

I would buy a lawnmower next weekend, along with an assortment of yard care implements. There. It was decided. I immediately felt better. Face things head on, the way Alex always had.

The coffee shop wasn't far from our house, and we smelled it before we saw it. I drank too much coffee, I knew I did, but I'd resigned myself years ago to my hopeless addiction. There were worse ways to go.

The bell attached to the door jingled as we walked in. It was a tidy place, smelling of banana bread, warm and inviting, while still having that hip, artful shabbiness about it that seemed de rigueur for coffee places. There were vinyl records on some of the walls, and what appeared to be a little stage area off to one side where most of the seating was. Poetry slams? Unplugged versions of acoustic renditions of folk songs? There was music playing, something with guitars and a Latin touch. I could tell by the sound that it was a record. An honest-to-god record. Nice.

"Could use some art," Amanda said in a stage whisper. "Good thing I know an artist, eh?"

"No," I whispered.

"Maybe even a graphic designer? One who specializes in working with small businesses?"

"Honey, please," I begged. In that way she was certainly Alex's daughter. I wasn't shy, just… self-contained. Mostly. I didn't want to be a bother or draw attention to myself. And I knew why that was, but still, that was how I was, and I wasn't about to waltz up to the owner of this establishment and start dropping not-so-subtle hints that their place would get more business with one of my ads, or look better with some of my art hanging on the walls. Besides, I painted, or used to paint, mostly nature scenes. Landscapes. Flowers. Seascapes. Not coffee house art. I worked with a lot of restaurants, designing menus and flyers, but no coffee houses.

What was this place even called? I'd forgotten to look at the sign.

"Welcome to The Coffee Spoon!"

I looked back and saw a man coming out of the back room, wiping his hands on a towel. He was dark-skinned, handsome as hell, and where I wore my graying hair buzzed short thanks to my receding hairline he sported a glorious headful of dreads. He had a kind face, with gentle brown eyes behind his glasses. A sleeve of flower tattoos went up his left arm and peeked out of the left side of his shirt collar. Nice muscles, too. He was definitely a good-looking guy, for as much as that meant to me. Still, good-looking guys were good to look at.

He and Amanda started talking, and I got the feeling that he was the owner. He started growing a little anxious and began rambling as she peppered him with questions. Should I step in? I knew my daughter could be a bit overwhelming at times. But this guy ran a coffee shop. Surely he wouldn't do such a thing if he had social anxiety?

Amanda could be overwhelming, but she was sensitive too. Empathetic. She stopped asking questions and the conversation ground to a halt, then they both looked at me.

The guy stared. I stared back.

We both looked elsewhere.

Then we looked back.

"What'll it be?" he finally prompted.

Oh. "Oh!" I peeped. I cleared my throat and scanned the menu. So many choices. Too many. The names were all plays on bands, or at least I assumed they were. "I...um…" I didn't even know what some of these drinks were, the names were so esoteric. The 'Chai Antwoord' was easy enough to guess, as was the Iced Teagan and Sara. So was the black coffee, but I couldn't do my coffee black. I just wasn't that strong of a person. But at least I knew what I was ordering, and I could always put cream and sugar in it. Copious amounts. "I'll have the Godspeed You! Black Coffee. Please."

"Sticking with the classics," he said with a gleaming smile. "No problem, man."

He walked back behind the counter and we went up to it to pay. Lord, but he'd had a lovely smile, with deep dimples and everything. It was nice to be smiled at that way by a handsome man. He took Amanda's order, and when he started on the coffees he didn't make small talk, keeping his back turned. I was...sort of expecting him to make conversation. Wasn't that what baristas always did? At least in these little places. Starbucks whisked you in and out with kind yet impersonal efficiency, but I'd gotten so used to the outgoing baristas at our old coffee shop that I didn't really know how to take this other than personally.

"C'mon, Daddio," Amanda said, taking my arm and leading me over to one of the couches.

We had the place to ourselves this time of day, other than a surly looking guy in the corner who seemed hung-over. It was nice, though it would be nicer to come back in the early morning to enjoy the busy vibe of people on their way to work. I wondered if the owner was any more outgoing then. "I wonder what his deal is," I whispered. The sound of the espresso machine would cover just about anything.

"I thought he was funny. Cool guy too. The drink names are clever." She squinted one eye at me. "Not that I'd expect you to know any of these bands."

I didn't rise to the bait, knowing she expected me to. And she wasn't wrong. I wasn't a cool guy. I didn't listen to cool music. There was not one thing about me that was cool, and I'd made my peace with that long ago. It wasn't as if I didn't know how I was. I was awkward and uptight and--

"Cool as he is, I think he might be even more uncomfortable talking to people than you are."

I murmured, "Hence why I work from home, and didn't open a coffee shop, where I would be expected to chit chat with my patrons in the course of performing my service industry job."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "What I'm _trying_ to say is...you're both awkward, this place is right around the corner from our house, and you know you'll be coming here all the time since yes, you do work from home and need a place to meet clients, so maybe you should try to make friends."

I must have looked as aghast as it felt I did. She looked at me the way librarians do, over the tops of their little glasses, but she didn't have glasses on. My daughter's vision was perfect, like everything else about her.

"Pop, we talked about this," she said with extreme patience. "You need to make some friends."

I didn't bother protesting that I had friends. I had once, or thought I had. But they had been Alex's friends, when it came down to it, and once Alex was gone so were they. Some had tried to stick around, tried to be supportive, some even still called once in a while to see how I was doing, but it was awkward, and I was willing to take a good chunk blame for that. Death makes people uncomfortable, and I'm...me. Quiet. Not exciting. Not fun, certainly. That had been Alex, and I'd always been swept along in his wake, and now, now I was just adrift. No hand on the rudder to keep me moving in any particular direction. No anchor to make me feel I belonged… anywhere, really. But then I never really had. Except with Alex.

"We're making progress," she said sagely, putting her hand on my knee. "You're out of the house, right? That's a good first step."

"Right," I murmured, with a nod that I hoped looked decisive. She was right. Of course she was right. My outgoing, vivacious daughter was good with people, well-liked, with a good group of friends. She knew what she was talking about. She was going to be gone in August, off to college, and I'd be home alone all the time. If I didn't start working on my social life now I was going to end up a hermit, ordering groceries to be delivered and peeking out a crack in the curtains to spy on the neighbors.

The owner came up with our drinks and set them on the little coffee table--coffee table!--in front of us. Amanda stood and thrust out her hand, sending my heart into my throat and startling the guy.

"So, we're new in the neighborhood," she stated. "My name's Amanda, and this is my dad Mitchell."

"Oh hey," he replied with a warm smile as he shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you. Name's Mat."

Amanda let go of his hand, and when I didn't move she kicked my foot with an appalling lack of subtlety.

I cleared my throat and stood, holding out my hand, and he took it. It was sweaty, but the warmth was nice. He had nice hands, with sort of rough fingertips. He smelled nice too, a bit like coconut, a bit like coffee cake. He was a little shorter than me, but oh those eyes, soft and deep, tilted up at the corners. "Mitchell," I blurted, and Mat laughed. "But obviously you already knew that," I finished lamely. So lamely.

He let go in a way that didn't scream discomfort, and he was still smiling, his eyes crinkling a bit at the edges. How old was he? I was older than him, I was sure of that. And fatter. I was suddenly, keenly aware of how out of shape I was, faced with the muscles in front of me. I'd never been a slim guy, but it had been...hard, the last couple years, to not turn back to bad habits. Food wasn't supposed to be emotional comfort, I knew that, but it really was for me. It always had been, though I hadn't needed it as much when I'd had Alex. My daughter was already enough of a crutch as it was without me leaning any more heavily on her. I refused to do that to her. So I leaned on carbs instead.

Mat turned to Amanda and said, "Hey, you should come by when my daughter's around. She's in 5th grade this year, though...you're probably in high school, and...uh...well I guess you're not all that close in age...um…"

"No worries!" Amanda assured him. "I'd love to meet her! I'm sure we'll be in all the time."

I interjected, "Well, at least once in a--"

"I said _all the time_ ," she repeated. "We just moved into the cul-de-sac right around the corner."

Mat brightened and said in surprise, "Hey, no kidding! The cute little house right in the middle that was on the market for the longest time? I live right next door!"

 _Oh no_. I smiled and feared that it just made me look sick to my stomach. Right next door. This handsome, adorably awkward man lived right next door to us. To me. Too close. Much too close. I didn't want him to see me, I don't know, being me.

"Say neighbors, let me get your opinion on something," he said. "I'll be right back."

After he disappeared into the kitchen Amanda whispered fiercely, "C'mon, Dad, try a little, won't you? He's our nextdoor neighbor. And he seems really nice."

"He is, honey. And I am trying." I could hear a touch of whininess in my voice. Unacceptable. I was a grown man of 47 years of age. I was better than this. Except I really wasn't.

Mat returned with a little plate upon which rested two slices of banana bread, the source of the wonderful smell in the cafe. "Just pulled it out of the oven a little while ago," he stated. "New recipe I'm trying, but I can't quite seem to come up with a catchy name for it. I uh…" He nibbled at his lip. "I mean, all the drinks have names…"

Good lord, he could bake. The guy was killing me.

Amanda said, "Ooh, yes! Dad loves baked goods. He makes a killer chocolate cake. And every type of pie you can imagine."

I waited for Mat's eyes to travel down to my generous waistband, but instead he smiled broadly and said, "A man after my own heart." Dimples. Dimples for miles.

Mat held out the plate and we each took a slice. It was still warm and smelled heavenly. It had walnuts, which was vital for any respectable banana bread, and it was moist but not crumbly, and not overly sweet either. And it had actual slices of banana in it. Banana overload. It was perfection. I had to wonder just what sort of orgasmic expression I had on my face when I heard him chuckle.

"This is amazing," my daughter mumbled through a mouthful, making me clear my throat.

"Absolutely," I agreed. It really was amazing, and that wasn't an exaggeration.

Mat winked and said, "The secret ingredient is bananas."

I laughed, though it suspiciously sounded like a giggle to my ears. He was adorable. Why did he have to be adorable?

"So what do you think?" Mat prompted me, his expression turning to one of uncertainty. "Nothing sounds right. I want it to be obvious that it's banana bread…" His expression then turned expectant, hopeful.

I grimaced and warned him, "It might be corny. I only do corny."

"Hey man, I'll take what I can get."

God, what did I have? I had nothing. I didn't know a lot of bands, and certainly none that were considered edgy or anything. But it was banana bread. Banana bread wasn't edgy. But it was also damn good banana bread. Sexy even. I blurted out, "Right Said Banana Bread." Mat stared at me with a blank expression, and I felt my pulse start to race. What on earth made me come up with that? I stammered, "Like...Right Said Fred, but...it's bread. Banana bread."

"That's...actually pretty good," Mat finally said. He sounded like he even meant it. "I like it!"

Relieved, I laughed awkwardly then sang, "I'm...too tasty for this plate, too tasty for--" Amanda nudged me with her foot. My girl always had my back, but...maybe she could've moved a little quicker this time?

Mat burst into laughter. "All right then: Right Said Banana Bread. Strong decisions. That's art, baby."

I stared silently, and Mat stared back with widening eyes, as if realizing what he'd just said. How to respond, without digging my Hole of Dorkiness any deeper?

Mat stammered and tried to recover. Poorly. So the rambling was what he did when he was nervous. I usually made stupid jokes, as I had just now, or retreated into the Turtle Shell, as Amanda called it. It was a good shell though, sturdy and comfortable.

Mat winced and began subtly inching away as he said with false cheeriness, "Anyway, enjoy your coffee."

I held up my cup and saluted him with it, saying, "Thanks, baby." No. No no no, why did I say these things? But Mat laughed and visibly relaxed.

"See, it sounds good when you say it," he said with a grin. "I'll see you around the neighborhood, man."

He left to take the plate in the back, and I watched him go, feeling exhausted. It was still morning and I was utterly exhausted. Still...he was nice. It helped a little, knowing he was anxious about these things. It was usually me who bungled social situations, at least ones that had any meaning to them. I handled clients perfectly well, but I was terrible at this. Whatever this was. Making friends...maybe? It would be nice to have friends that I had made on my own. Friends that I could keep this time. If I didn't screw it up, the way I had with mine and Alex's friends.

And he lived _right next door_. I was sort of obligated to make friends with him.

The cul-de-sac had seemed quiet this morning while moving in, so most of the people must have been at work, which suited me perfectly fine. No barking dogs either, at least so far. I could be content there, if I made some friends before Amanda left. I had done my best the last two years to not lean on her, to let her be her own person and have her own life that had nothing to do with me, and she was a strong, resilient girl. Me, not so much. Strong and resilient, that was. I was obviously not a girl. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

We left our cups in the designated tub then wandered outside. "What now, Panda?" I asked. I desperately wanted to go home, but I knew the suggestion would be met with either pity or scorn.

"Let's take a look," she murmured, pulling out her phone to look at a map of the area.

Ah yes. I had a phone that could do that. I let her do her thing while pondering our options. I felt as if I'd already paid my social dues for the day, but...she was only going to be around until August. It was already mid-April, spring recess week. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could without smothering her.

"There's a little park nearby," Amanda suggested. "I bet lots of things are blooming right now. You could get some ideas for the yard. Maybe meet more locals."

She had me convinced before the meeting more locals part, but such was the price I paid for pleasing my daughter. "That's sounds great, honey. Let's go."

We made our way to the little local park. We came bayside once a year for the fair, but overall I didn't know this area well, so I'd never been to this park. It was a beautiful day though, cool but sunny, perfect for a walk.

The sound of children playing was heard before we reached the park. It was a good sound. Alex and I had sometimes wondered if we should've had another child, to give Amanda a brother or sister, but with him gone so often we never felt like it was the right time. Amanda never seemed unhappy to be an only child. I had grown up in a home with three other siblings, and...it hadn't been a happy experience, not necessarily because of them, not any more than any other siblings, but unhappy in general. I wondered sometimes if that colored my part in deciding not to adopt again. Instead I had poured all my love and attention into Amanda, we both had, and I couldn't regret that.

We walked the path that went around the perimeter of the park. It really was pretty here. Azaleas and daffodils were blooming, with the odd tulip here and there. Lovely. With school out there were lots of families about, kids running and screaming. I couldn't count all the times I'd taken Amanda to the park by our house--our _old_ house--and pushed her on the swings or hidden under the slide to grab her as she went down, making her shriek every time even though she knew I was there. I heard her sigh wistfully and knew she was remembering the same the things I was.

"Mitchell? Is that you, bro?"

The man who had just jogged by us did a double take and turned back, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize who I was looking at. "Craig," I breathed. Craig Cahn. Dear god. I hardly recognized him. We hadn't seen each other in...what had it been, 16 years? Since he'd moved out to California. Amanda had been hardly more than a baby the last time he… Baby. He had a baby strapped to his front, in a carrier. Who on earth had handed this man a baby?

"Bro!"

Craig swept me into a sideways hug to avoid squishing the baby, and I hugged him back. Muscles. When had Keg Stand Craig gotten so fit? We'd gone to college together and had roomed together the whole time, plus a year after, until Alex and I had started living together, and there had always been a certain comfort there that Craig hadn't been in any better shape than I was. I had never been a heavy drinker, but Craig had liked his liquor, and his weed, and his junk food, and sleeping. Honestly I don't know how he had graduated college, but somehow he had managed to, and… Wow. I could hardly believe it was him!

Craig pushed me out at arm's length, grinning, though he was looking a little shiny around the eyes. Well I was too. We hadn't been best friends or anything, not that I'd ever really had one other than Alex, but he had been a good friend, a good listener, back when I was a mess and still trying to figure myself out, and he'd dragged me along on so many adventures that at the time had felt like they were taking years off my life but that I now looked back on fondly. Where had all the time gone?

"I can't believe it's you!" Craig exclaimed. "It's been a long time, bro!"

"It has, it's…" I blew out a long breath of amazement. "You look..." Fantastic. I couldn't believe my eyes. He looked like a professional athlete. He had honest-to-god pecs. I'd never been attracted to Craig, but...hot damn, he looked amazing. "Wow."

He laughed self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I cleaned up my act a while back, after moving out to California. Moved here a couple years ago." He looked sheepish. "I should've looked you up, but...I lost your number, and I should've come by your place but could never find the time." He grimaced. "I was sorry to hear about Alex, bro. I should've come by."

I gave him as much smile as I could muster. I could've kept in touch just as easily as Craig, and… I had never found the time either. "No worries. I know how it is." I quickly changed the subject and gestured at the infant on his chest. She was blowing a spit bubble. Amanda used to do that too. So adorable. "Babysitting?"

Craig burst into laughter. Ah, but that was so good to hear. He'd always had an infectious laugh.

"No way, bro, this one's mine!"

I gaped. It wasn't often that I truly gaped, but my mouth was hanging open an obscene amount.

"I know, right?" he laughed. "Who would've thought?" He grinned at Amanda. "Amanda! Look how big you are! You weren't much bigger than River the last time I saw you. You probably don't remember me, but it's good to see you again!"

Amanda smiled and said, "Hi, Craig!" She then bent over and looked at the baby. "River, is it? Aren't you a cutie!"

"Hey, thanks! I think so too."

The baby really was cute. Now that I was looking for it, she did look like Craig. "Just the one?" I asked. Craig was 46, but people sometimes got a late start on having kids.

"Aw, heck no," he replied. "Got a pair of twin girls too, they're ten. River here is fourteen months."

I blinked in disbelief. Craig had never wanted kids, at least when we were in our mid-twenties, and I'd agreed at the time that for society's sake he probably shouldn't have them. I mean, he was a great guy, but he had never been the most responsible guy either. I'd never really trusted him to take care of himself, let alone another living being. His girlfriend, who had become his wife, hadn't been much better. I finally asked, "So you and Smashley, I'm sorry, Ashley--"

"No, she uh, still goes by Smashley," Craig said as his smile faded. "Yeah, they're ours, but we uh, split up. Got divorced a little over a year ago, not long after River was born."

"Oh hey, I'm sorry," I said in all sincerity.

He shook his head. "No no, it's okay. Kind of a long time coming. Old news at this point. We have joint custody and...things work." He let out a little laugh. "Ain't life something, bro? One minute we're rolling up to exams hungover--"

"I wasn't," I protested. Amanda lifted an eyebrow at me, at exactly the same time Craig did. "Much," I amended. I changed the subject yet again. "So what brings you to Maple Bay?"

"We wanted to finish raising the kids where we grew up, and…" He smiled and shrugged enigmatically. "You still living on the north side? You never came bayside much."

"Amanda and I just moved into the area today, believe it or not."

"No way, bro! Where? I live real close by!" He seemed excited by the prospect.

And maybe...maybe I was a little bit, too. Maybe this was another chance. "A cul-de-sac just ten minutes from--"

"No way, bro! I do too!"

Craig grabbed me into another hug, and I had to fight to keep from crying.

"What are the odds, huh?" he said as he patted my back then pushed me out again. "That little house in the middle, right?" I nodded. "Aw, that's amazing, bro," he gushed. "You'll _love_ it here. The other guys on the street are real nice. A couple are kind of...different, but not in a bad way." He patted my shoulder. "Hey, I gotta go. Gotta keep up the heart rate. But give me your number?" He pulled his phone out from the armband holder. Because of course he had one. We exchanged phones and entered our contact info, then he put his phone back and grinned at me as he put his earbuds back in. "You and me, Bro Brunch, just like old times. Maybe we could go for a run first?"

The suggestion struck terror into my heart. My middle-aged, well-rested heart. Craig was only a year younger than me, but he sure as hell didn't look it. I looked every year of my age and then some. "I...possibly...could...entertain the uh...possibility…" No. No, I wasn't going to live like that. I'd been living like that for too long. New house; new start. I nodded firmly. "Yes. Absolutely."

"All right, bro. I'll be in touch." He gave me the finger guns and a wink. "Guaranteed." He took off at a jog, headed the opposite way.

"Wow," I whispered.

Amanda had been uncharacteristically quiet, but perceptive as she was, maybe she knew to let us just talk. I appreciated it.

We began walking again, and she asked, "Was that really Keg Stand Craig?"

I hadn't realized she remembered any of my stories about my former roomie, but I found myself reminiscing again as we finished our round of the park. So many good memories were tied up in that guy, even if I hadn't been in the best place emotionally at that point in my life. Still, he'd always been a good listener, a good friend, and it wasn't his fault that we'd fallen out of touch.

Well it wasn't going to happen again. I didn't believe in a god, or fate, or anything of the sort, but I'd been given the chance here to make a life of my own, really my own, and I wasn't going to waste it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional tags for: past parental emotional abuse and neglect, past parental homophobia (nothing spelled out in detail), past homelessness, occasional alcohol use, past spousal death, and familial estrangement. These things will come up multiple times over the course of the story. I tried to leaven it all with humor, and hope it worked.
> 
> This is a very sad fic in spots, and I cried quite a bit while writing it, but I haven't personally experienced depression, so I've done as much research as I can and have listened to friends who live with chronic depression talk about their struggles with it, so hopefully I didn't screw that up. Also, I am not a POC, and Dream Daddy features a number of characters who are, so if you are a POC and I've made any missteps here, please let me know (if you're comfortable doing so). I grew up in a very homophobic household, which left a lasting mark on me as a bi/pan woman, but nothing like what the Dadsona experienced; obviously, I was never thrown out of the house for my orientation, which my parents didn't know about at the time and which I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge until my early 20s (long ago). The charity Mitchell alludes to several times in the fic is Bridge Over Troubled Waters: https://www.bridgeotw.org. They work with homeless, runaway and at-risk youth in Boston. A similar organization in my area is Janus Youth Programs: http://janusyouth.org. I donated to both, and if you can spare anything to your local organization please do so!
> 
> I wrote the bulk of this a year ago and never got around to posting. I've hit a dry spell lately with HBK and am having some health issues that are leaving me completely spent and without inspiration, so I went back and reread this and replayed Dream Daddy a bit, just for something to do. This is sort of my comfort fic, imagining living in a place like Maple Bay, in such a great neighborhood, with such great people. Oddly enough, I also live on a cul-de-sac, in the same exact spot on the street that Dadsona does, which made it kind of fun to imagine. I headcanon Maple Bay as being extremely LGBTQ friendly and somewhere about half an hour south of Boston. I know the Dream Daddy fandom is nearly dead at this point, but I still have a lot of love for the game and the characters, and I feel that Mat has never gotten the same love the other characters have. His path and his character touched me way more than any of the others.
> 
> The title of this fic was inspired by the song of the same name by Allman Brown. I headcanon a lot of Mat's music as sounding a bit like his. Also, this fic is written in (obviously) first person, a POV I am not at all familiar with, so please excuse any tense switching, as it isn't intentional.


	2. Chapter 2

Awkward. God, I was awkward, and my only child had abandoned me in the center of Joseph's perfectly-manicured backyard. She could be cruel like that at times.

I heard a familiar laugh. Craig! I made a beeline for him, wildly relieved to see a familiar face at the barbecue, and then realized once I reached him that there was another familiar face there. Standing next to him was Mat, the handsome barista who lived on the other side of me.  _ Don't blush. You are not going to blush. _

I blushed. Curse my pasty complexion for betraying me.

He didn't notice, embroiled in a rather serious discussion with…

This couldn't be real.

Mr. Vega. Amanda's English teacher. I took a look around, a  _ real  _ look around, and realized that all of the dads present looked familiar. I knew Mat and Craig lived on the cul-de-sac, and of course Joseph, my other-side nextdoor neighbor. I'd texted back and forth with Craig all week, filling in the lost years while we tried to find time to meet up, or he tried to find time rather. I'd gotten coffee a couple times at Mat's shop with Amanda, but the shop had been busy and he hadn't had time to chat, and I hadn't made any overtures either, something that I knew was driving Amanda up the wall. The picky vampire guy from Dead, Goth and Beyond was there, and that super-competitive redheaded dad from the park that I'd refused to engage with, and the handsome but seedy-looking older guy I had noticed in the Coffee Spoon my first day in the neighborhood.

But Amanda's English teacher? Really? What were the odds?

I came to stand by Craig, who had River in her carrier on his front, and he rolled his eyes behind Mat's back then whooshed his hand over his head. I had to admit that I didn't get what they were discussing either. Well, no, I understood exactly what Mr. Vega was saying, I just...didn't particularly care. I painted as a hobby, yes, or had, and I did graphic design for a living, but I didn't get into the details of art like this. I had a Bachelor's degree in Business Administration, a degree I'd never really used, nor had really wanted, to be honest, so perhaps if I'd gone to an Arts school I would have had more interest. The only thing of value that going to that college had netted me was meeting Alex there. And Craig, of course.

Mat though. I hadn't imagined Mat being so into art history. Not that a coffee shop owner couldn't be. I didn't know anything about him other than what I'd gleaned during our first meeting. I had only seen his daughter once, playing basketball with Craig's twins on the street hoop in front of Craig's house. She'd been adorable, with glasses like her dad and a cloud of brown hair. All the daughters were adorable, though. Well, mostly. Joseph's daughter was a bit unsettling. All of his children were, though I still hadn't seen the fourth one, the baby.

Chris, Christie, Christian, and Crish. Christiansen. Mary and Joseph. Good god, it only then hit me. What on earth was going on in that family? Joseph seemed like an honestly nice guy, though. His wife seemed unhappy, but unhappy marriages weren't uncommon.

Maybe I didn't want to know.

"Bro, I'm not getting any of this," Craig said in a stage whisper. "Rococo what?"

"Nor should you," I replied. "Save yourself." I was glad to have the distraction from the eerie feeling my nextdoor neighbors were giving me. I tickled River under the chin. Did Craig never put the baby down? Every time I saw him out and about he had her attached to him. When did Smashley ever come get the kids? I held my hands out and said, "I can take her. You're going to throw out your back, carrying her all the time."

"No way, bro. This back is solid steel. I'm good."

I nodded and gave up. "Well the offer's there." Craig was really into his kids, and I admired that about him. I still couldn't believe how much he'd changed. He was so driven now, running a business and taking care of three kids, working out like a maniac. I would've crumbled under that kind of pressure. It seemed self-inflicted though, and I knew better than to do that to myself.

"You all settled in yet?"

"Mostly. The boxes are all unpacked, except… Well, mostly." I still had quite a few things in the garage that didn't fit into the smaller house, and I hadn't been able to bring myself to unpack the photo box. I wasn't sure when I would. Or if I would. If Amanda was going to be around for a while I would have. I didn't think I could handle seeing all our family pictures up on our walls once she was gone, though. Sitting alone in an empty house… No. I knew if I did that that I would have some serious issues to contend with. If self-care meant not putting up the photos, then that was what I had to do.

Maybe a call to my old therapist wouldn't hurt. This was a big life change for me. Changes, plural. With a new house and Amanda gone in August, I was playing with fire trying to manage this on my own. But shouldn't I be able to at this point? Wasn't I self-aware enough by now to deal with my own mental health? I knew that wasn't how it worked, not always, but I didn't want to go back to therapy when what I really needed to do was make friends. I'd made Amanda and Alex my whole world for so many years that I felt like I didn't know who I was without them. I didn't have what I considered a life of my own, and if I didn't deal with that now I would be a wreck once she left.

Craig and I talked while Mat and...Hugo? Could I call him that, now that I knew that we were neighbors? While Mat and Hugo debated. It was nice, seeing Mat sounding confident. He and Hugo had clearly known each other for years. Alex and I had lived in our townhouse for so long that we'd been sort of the elder statesmen of our development. It felt odd being the new kid on the block, even if I was older than everyone else here except the broody fellow. The broody fellow was talking to Joseph's wife, both of them with drinks in their hands. They looked like they had known each other a long time too. And Joseph was watching the two of them with very poorly disguised uneasiness.

Christ, no. I didn't want to live on a street with drama, let alone next door to it. Please.

Hugo and Mat ended their discussion, which seemed to have come to a draw, then the teacher asked how I liked the neighborhood. It was a nice thing to ask. He seemed like a nice guy, easy-going.

Then Mat was talking, and smiling. Smiling. My brain caught up just in time to look the direction he was pointing, and there in the grass was my daughter with two other girls, weaving something under Amanda's direction. One was Brian's daughter Daisy, and the other was Mat's. Carmen? Was that her name? Cute though, god was it cute seeing the girls working on their project so diligently. Amanda seemed to be the oldest kid on the street, but she probably got a kick out of that.

Mat's daughter got up and came running over, grinning, and I saw that she had braces. Amanda had gotten hers off a few years ago, and I didn't miss what a hassle they had been for both of us.

It was cute watching Mat interact with his daughter. It was clear that they were really close. Mat wasn't wearing a wedding ring, not that every man did, and I hadn't seen a spouse or ex-spouse around. Not that I'd been watching his house or anything as I went about my business during the course of the week. That would have been weird.

Then she was putting the flower crown she'd made on his head and he smiled and kissed her forehead, and I was just…

I didn't understand this at all. I didn't even know the guy. It wasn't like me to get flustered so easily by a handsome face. It took me time to warm up. I had to get to know a guy before that feeling started to build. Even as charming and outgoing as Alex had been, it had taken a few weeks of dating before a real spark had ignited, though I'd liked him a great deal before that. So patient. He had always been so patient with me.

This though… I hated myself for it, but this wasn't welcome. This wasn't how things usually worked for me, and I didn't know what to do with it. He was my nextdoor neighbor, for god's sake. He had a daughter. Maybe he was married and I hadn't seen his spouse yet. A spouse that could be a wife. I knew Mr. Vega, I mean Hugo, had been married to a man before getting divorced, only because Amanda had mentioned it earlier in the school year, and I knew Craig had been with a guy or two in college, casually, before he'd started dating Smashley.  _ Ashley _ . Her name was Ashley. The odds of Mat being single and attracted to men were slim. How on earth could that even be possible, statistically?

But then the odds of this many attractive men all living on the same cul-de-sac should have been slim too, and this was ridiculous. I didn't count myself among that number, either. I mean, I was nice looking, I supposed, in a rather dull way. There was nothing about me that was interesting or exciting. That had been Alex. It had always been Alex. He hadn't been gorgeous by any means, but he had been so charismatic and personable that people had naturally gravitated towards him, just as I had.

Mat introduced his daughter. Carmensita. What a lovely name. And yet no mention of a co-parent.

"Hey Dad! Look, I'm making new friends!" Amanda crowed as she appeared at Hugo's side with Daisy.

"That's wonderful, honey," I replied. My child had never had trouble making friends, any more than Alex had.

"How about you?" She sensed my hesitation and pounced. "I'm sure you must be. Making friends. Like you said you were going to."

I didn't dignify that with an answer. I introduced my three fellow dads, or reintroduced in Craig's and Mat's cases. Maybe it made me a terrible person, and a worse father, but I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction as horror filled Amanda's eyes when Hugo smiled calmly at her. He was an incredibly handsome man, and wouldn't you know, he had dimples as well, but they weren't Mat-level dimples.

I glanced at Mat and he was adjusting the flower crown, then he bent down so that Carmensita could fix it. What a beautiful smile he had. I must have missed the byplay between Hugo and my daughter, because she was suddenly fingergunning backwards then heading for the snack table. Amanda didn't spook easily, but whatever Hugo had said had him smirking and her fleeing.

"Ah, she's charming," Hugo said, actually sounding sincere. "But really, I need that overdue paper, Mr. Rivera." He caught himself and laughed. "Sorry, we're neighbors! Mitchell."

"We'll get it done this weekend," I promised, while privately vowing to have a talk with Amanda. Again. She'd said she would take care of getting that paper done. She had a serious case of senioritis, and I got that, I really did, but if she wanted to get into a great college she had to keep her nose to the grindstone.

As the barbecue went on I found myself having a good time against my will. I really had no choice, or my daughter would shame me as publicly as possible. She kept checking in on me over the course of the afternoon, a steely glint in her eye that never wavered.

The thing was, I didn't have to force it. It was...incredible. Events like this had always been painful for me. I had always followed in Alex's wake as he schmoozed effortlessly and I counted down the minutes until we could leave. He had made sure I was included, but it hadn't helped my discomfort much; it wasn't that I was shy, I just...had better things to do. Today, I was doing this on my own, mostly. The other dads made me feel welcome. Most of the dads. I wasn't sure what Robert's deal was, but the other dads seemed to like him fine, other than him and Joseph avoiding each other, so maybe he was just slow to warm. Finding out he had a kid had been a shocker, but at mention of said child he had shut down and walked away from Brian. Maybe the guy was just troubled. The amount of whiskey he was putting away was impressive, and it looked like it wasn't mixed with anything, either.

Brian wasn't as bad as he had seemed when we first met. I'd known one-uppers before, and it often came from a place of insecurity, so I let it go, and once more refused to engage. Damien was charming, and he nearly glowed when I assured him that I thought his house looked  fantastic in black. I had my concerns about what the summer heat would do to it, but I was sure he had that figured out. Joseph was a wonderful host, and I had to admit with utter sincerity and a complete lack of envy that he had the most flawless grill work I had ever seen. Hugo seemed to be having trouble with his son, but he also seemed to be doing the best he could. It couldn't be easy for the kid to have a teacher for a dad, and it looked like there were some shared custody issues with him and his ex that were exacerbating the problem. It was a shame.

But Mat. Mat was a single dad? It appeared so. I didn't let even a spark of hope ignite. I was  _ not  _ going to get involved with my next door neighbor, even if there was a chance that my interest would be returned, and there was a very high chance it wouldn't be. What if I let on that I was interested and things went wrong and we had a frosty relationship after that, bickering about hedge trimming and fence lines? What if we ended up tearing the cul-de-sac apart as neighbors took sides? What if…

What if they all took  _ Mat's  _ side, as he was established and I was the newcomer? What if I ended up cut out of future barbecues? Shunned? The consequences could be enormous.

No, I wasn't going to go there. He seemed like a really nice guy though. Friendship would be nice. I would have to sign up for this DadBook thing and work up the courage to see if any of the other dads wanted to do things one-on-one. Meeting up with Craig was proving impossible for now with his crazy schedule. Amanda would be going back to school on Monday and I didn't have any commissions lined up. I had to keep up my newfound social momentum and press forward.

I could do this.

I had a good feeling about it all. That didn't happen for me often, but when it did it usually panned out. It had with Alex. And I had done this on my own, too.

As we walked home I felt a little choked up. Alex would have been proud of me. I was sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jeez, Dad, just back off! Everything's fine, all right?"

I blinked in shock as Amanda stormed out of the house. A few seconds later I heard the car start up and pull out of the driveway.

Wow.

Ouch.

All right then. I tried not to pout or get angry as I pulled my shoes on. What on earth was going on with my daughter? Every attempt to get her to talk had been rebuffed, at first with humor, and now with irritation. I was pushing too hard, I knew that, but I was so worried about her, and she would be gone soon. In a month and a half she would be graduating from high school.

Was it school? Hugo said she was doing better, and none of her other teachers had contacted me with any concerns. Was it a boy? Maybe this Noah that kept coming up?

Wouldn't that be something, for Amanda and I to be having boy problems at the same time? Though my problem was more the lack of boys than anything else.

That sounded sad and pathetic even in my own head.

I gathered up my laptop bag and headed to The Coffee Spoon alone. Fine, I was being too clingy. I could see that. But surely Amanda understood why. Though maybe understanding why didn't matter. I knew I was a clinger. Alex had found it adorable, but it was obviously getting on Amanda's nerves. She was at a point where she wanted to make her own life, apart from me, and--

I had to blink away the threat of tears. _Let it go_. I had to let it go. It wasn't personal. She didn't hate me.

_It isn't personal. She doesn't hate you_.

I kept silently repeating that to myself the entire way to the coffee shop, along with a few reminders that Mat's shyness wasn't personal either. He wasn't standoffish by any means, but he never really initiated conversation either. Granted, we had only interacted at his shop and Joseph's barbecue, with a few waves in passing from our respective yards. I tried not to go to his shop too often, maybe twice a week, partly due to the expense, partly to avoid looking like a stalker. I had always come with Amanda as a buffer-slash-excuse, but those plans had been shot to hell by her uncharacteristic temper, and I needed to talk to him anyway. Or run something by him, rather.

It was as busy a morning as usual when I got there, with high school students and commuters. I didn't know how Mat ran this place alone, but he was in his element here, pulling espressos and blending frappuccinos at seemingly the same time. Maybe he liked it when it was busy like this, so that he'd have an excuse to not make small talk with his customers. I recognized some of them, so he had regulars, and he did seem to know a lot of them by name, so it wasn't as if he wasn't friendly.

I took a seat out of the way to wait for the crowds to disperse. I'd never brought my work here before in the three weeks that we'd lived in the neighborhood, but I had a client who wanted to meet in person, as they sometimes did, and I wanted to make sure the shop had decent wifi first. I also needed to run this by Mat. Most coffee shops didn't mind customers using them for little meetings like that, as long as you bought coffee and weren't disruptive. I was never disruptive, of course, and I made sure I always bought coffee for both myself and the client, but this wasn't a Starbucks.

I pulled out my laptop and performed a speed test of the open connection, and while it wasn't as high as the speeds at home it was more than adequate. I checked my phone, hoping Amanda would text me to apologize, but there was nothing. She was still driving to school, of course, so there wouldn't be anything yet. I hoped she felt better by time she got there and it didn't end up ruining her entire day.

Halfway into texting her, I stopped cold. I was doing it again. Smothering her. Fussing. I deleted the text and set my phone on the table. _Leave her alone, Mitchell_.

I took out my tablet instead. While I managed to work just fine, I suffered art block every so often, and I was currently stuck in the midst of one. I knew the stress of moving was the reason, that and worry over Amanda. At least with regard to drawing. Painting was another matter entirely. I hadn't felt even the slightest urge to paint since Alex had died, and I didn't know when it was coming back. I hadn't set up a studio area at home yet, past getting the office area set up in the corner of my bedroom, so even if I felt like it any actual painting on canvas was on hold, but I tried to get in a bit of sketching at least every day. I hadn't been able to draw much of anything in almost a month.

The empty screen mocked me. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to draw. I mostly painted and drew landscapes and scenery, and I was fairly good at those. I was all right, I supposed, at drawing people, and did want to get better at that, but simply wasn't in the mood for practicing or doing anatomy studies.

I looked around the shop, trying to find inspiration. Coffee Spoon, Coffee Spoon… I still didn't understand the reference, and I had tried to look up the poem Mat mentioned, with no luck. An absurd mental image of a spoon person drinking coffee came to me, and I went with it. When inspiration struck, one had to roll with it, no matter how silly it was.

I sketched as the crowds started to thin out, and had to laugh a bit at myself as the drawing began to take shape. I wasn't whimsical by nature, but occasionally a client would ask for something cute and silly, and those jobs were always a great deal of fun. I checked my phone every so often and still Amanda held out on me. I held fast to my vow to leave her alone, no matter how hard it was. She was in class by now, anyway.

Adding another layer, I started on the lines, trying to keep the drawing simple. I had to admit, I was pretty proud of this one. A spoon man was leaning an elbow on a counter, with a cup of steaming coffee in the other hand, winking, one leg crossed. Yes, I definitely liked this little guy.

"Wow!"

The pen fell out of my fingers and clattered onto the floor, and I stared up in shock at Mat. His smile fell away, and I bent down to pick up the stylus. I took my time doing it, hoping my face wasn't as warm as it felt.

"Hey man, sorry to startle you like that," he said in apology. "I guess I uh…"

"No worries," I assured him, then I laughed. "I shouldn't be so jumpy, considering I haven't even had coffee yet."

He smiled, just a bit, not enough to really bring out those glorious dimples but still very charming. "I can fix that. What'll you have? The usual?"

I usually got black coffee and doctored it myself, earning my child's scorn every time. Well she wasn't here, and I needed to branch…

Branch out. From the usual. Mat knew my usual?

I offered, "Surprise me?" It came out flirtier than I intended, which was not at all. I didn't flirt, and on the rare times I had tried when I was younger it had always been an awkward disaster. Alex had been the one to take the initiative, in almost everything, and we had been together so long that I didn't have a clue as to how to go about flirting, or getting a date, or...anything. We had been together most of our adult lives, since I was 23 and he was 24. How in the world was I going to find someone else, someone to grow old with, now that I was left with nothing but my own initiative? Amanda couldn't help. She _shouldn't_ help. She didn't even know that I was starting to think about dating again. I was afraid to tell her.

Mat laughed. "You got it. For here?" I nodded. "Be right back."

I watched him go behind the counter, watching his hair sway. He had it pulled back from his face, as he always did. I wondered if he ever left his hair down. And when did he go to the gym? He clearly went frequently to look like that. It made me acutely aware of how very out of shape I was, not that Craig hadn't already reinforced that plenty. He'd never said a word about my flab, but he didn't need to. I'd tried exercising with him twice, as a way to spend time together; the first time I'd been sore for a week after flying off the end of a treadmill and crashing into the wall, and the second I'd nearly had a heart attack while jogging at the park. Craig had felt so bad for me that he hadn't offered again. I knew I needed to exercise though, for my own health. I was going to be fifty in a few years, and it was only going to get harder the longer I waited to start exercising again. I'd never been trim, but I'd been in decent shape before Alex died. Not Craig-level shape, though. I didn't know where he found the time to stay as ripped as he was. Did he even sleep?

Maybe I should join the local gym, and go without Craig, at least at first. I didn't want to hold him back or make him feel bad for me. I know he did, too, because of Alex. I could see it in his eyes the times we'd been able to get together. Well, I felt bad for myself sometimes too. I appreciated Craig's compassion. It made me regret all the times I'd thought him shallow when we were young.

All right, he _had_ been shallow back then. It wasn't a kind thought, but it was true. I'd tried endlessly to find some hidden depths to Craig during the years we'd lived together and it had never panned out. He'd been a good friend though, loyal. A good guy. He still was.

As I continued my doodle, I thought about how I could still hardly believe my luck that I'd landed here, in this neighborhood. It would have been better with Alex, everything had been, but it was good all the same.

Mat returned with the coffee, his own in the other hand. He handed me mine, and seeing as how the shop was quiet for the moment I asked, "Do you have a few minutes?"

"To...talk?" He looked a little nervous, his thumb rubbing the handle of his cup.

"If that's all right?"

Mat smiled and sat down on the shabby little couch. "Sure thing, man. What's up?" He paused then added, "I'm surprised Amanda isn't with you. You two are joined at the hip."

I laughed a bit as I winced. "Eh...yeah. She's mad at me this morning." I sighed and looked down at the spoon man in my lap. I wanted someone to talk to about this, but I didn't want to dump on him. We didn't know each other at all.

"She calling you by your first name the way Hugo's kid does lately?"

I laughed again, more easily this time. "Well then, maybe things aren't so bad after all." I gave him a quick, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't complain, considering." I almost winced again as the words left my mouth. Such a hard habit to break, over-apologizing, even after all these years. I wasn't sure I ever would be able to stop doing it.

"I didn't take it as a complaint, more as a statement of fact."

"Right." I drew in a deep breath then blew it out. "You're right." I lifted the cup. "So, what's today's secret brew?" He smiled mysteriously and shrugged as he lifted an eyebrow. Handsome. Too handsome. I sniffed the cup, which held a nice frothy cap on top. No foam art, sadly, but the dusting of nutmeg was nice. Did he do foam art? I wasn't about to ask. It certainly smelled good, whatever it was. I took a sip then closed my eyes in pleasure. I could taste hints of chocolate. "This is delicious," I sighed. Why had I deprived myself of this for so long? I was never going back to black coffee with cream and sugar in it, at least not from here.

I licked the foam off my upper lip and opened my eyes, and his gaze quickly flicked up. Had he been looking at my mouth? No. No, there was no way that he had been, other than to note the fact that I had foam on my mouth.

"It's...uh...a mochaccino," he mumbled. "The Childish Mochaccino, to be exact." I must have looked as obtuse as I felt, as he offered, "Childish Gambino. He's a rapper." I continued to stare, and he explained, "It's the stage name of Donald Glover. The actor."

"Oh! Yes! Right! I like him." Good lord, I sounded like an idiot. An awkward silence began to form. I could feel it coalescing between us, like a living thing, then his thumb did that little rub on the handle of the mug. I was losing him, I could feel it. "Oh!" I repeated. "The thing! That I was going to ask you about."

"Right," he said with relief, then he took a sip of his own coffee.

"I, um…" I motioned to my laptop. "I work from home. As a graphic designer. I wasn't...sure if you knew that." Or cared, frankly, but--

"No kidding," Mat murmured, actually sounding interested. He looked at the tablet in my lap, which had gone dark. "That's what you were drawing, then? Something for work?" Surprisingly, he seemed disappointed.

"Oh no! No, I was just doodling while waiting for the morning crowd to clear out. I ah…" I chuckled and turned the tablet back on, then turned it to show him. "It's a spoon man. Or woman. Or neither. I mean, it's a spoon, they don't really…have genders... Well anyway, it's a coffee spoon." Mat stared at it with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted. "Just a little doodle. I was thinking about the name of your place. I tried to find the reference but came up short, so…" I cleared my throat. "I doodled. The spoon! I doodled the spoon. The uh...Coffee Spoon." _Shut up, Mitchell!_

"Wow," he breathed. "That's amazing."

"Not really, but I'm glad you like it." We sat there for several seconds in silence then I twitched. "Oh! Would you like to have it? The drawing. When I'm done with it, that is. I want to tweak a few things first."

Mat shook his head. "Nah man, I couldn't. You do this for a living."

"Oh no, not this, this was just a little thing. I don't mind at all." He shook his head again, looking uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't actually like it. I felt my face warming. "Well...all right," I mumbled, trying not to feel hurt. God, I was a grown man, with a nearly grown child. People became grandfathers at my age. I shouldn't feel so hurt that someone hadn't wanted a crappy little drawing that I'd made. It wasn't as if I'd made it _for_ Mat. Pathetic. I set the tablet and pen down on the table then cradled my drink in my hands then made a sound of frustration and set the coffee down as well. "I'm sorry. The coffee. Christ." I dug my wallet out of my jacket pocket, my hands shaking a bit. I couldn't believe that the issue of the drawing had me so flustered, as if I was some twelve year old offering something to a crush and being rebuffed. I wasn't being rebuffed; Mat didn't want to take advantage. That was all it was.

"Hey." Mat's tone was gentle. "How about...maybe we could trade? The coffee for the drawing?"

I relaxed a little, though it was embarrassing that I was so transparent. "Oh, the drawing isn't worth anything, really," I dissembled, poorly. "Like you said, this is your living. The drawing didn't cost me anything to make, like the coffee. It didn't even cost me my time, I mean, I was just sitting here, waiting. It was just a way to pass the time. While I, um…waited." His eyebrows drew together a bit, not quite a frown. "Sorry." His frown deepened. I cleared my throat. "I was going to ask if it was all right if I met clients here once in a while." I turned my eyes on the coffee. The coffee was safe. The coffee didn't judge. Not that Mat was judging. But he was thinking something, something that I was fairly certain I didn't want to know. "Not very often!" I quickly added. "It's that I work out of my home. I can't have strangers coming to my house. Usually I do everything online, but sometimes they want to meet in person. When we lived on the north side I would go to the Starbucks there, but this isn't Starbucks. Obviously." I cringed. "It's much nicer than a Starbucks. The coffee is...is better. Much." Shit. This was even worse than the horrid first encounter I'd had with Joseph. So much worse. I never rambled like this. I usually clammed up instead. What on earth was wrong with me?

"Yeah man, of course. No problem."

I assured him, "I'll buy coffee. For both of us. The client and me, that is." _Stop talking, Mitchell!_

"Not a big deal. Really."

And I had made it one, of course. Good grief. I smiled and nodded, though I kept my eyes on the mochaccino, which was rapidly growing cold. "Great! Thank you. I won't be a bother. We won't, I mean." I laughed uneasily. "Me and the hypothetical client."

Mat gently clapped me on the shoulder and murmured, "Seriously, it isn't a problem. At all. I totally get why you don't want people you don't know coming to your house, especially with a daughter." He took his hand away and motioned to my phone sitting on the table. "I'm sure she'll text before too much longer."

God, I hoped so.

The front door jingled and Mat stood. "The coffee for the drawing?" he offered again.

I nodded and glanced up at him. His sleeves were pushed up and I could see the tattoo that covered his left arm. There was a flower on his wrist that flowed into swirls and paisley patterns, and there was a heart on his forearm. None of it was in color, but it was beautiful. He wore a couple bracelets and what looked like a fitness tracker in a decorative band. I wondered how far the tattoos went. I could see a bit peeking out of--

Shit.

I yanked my eyes up to his, hoping to god I hadn't been gawking. I didn't gawk. It was rude. And creepy.

He backed away, smiling. "Trade."

I nodded. "Absolutely. Just let me finish it." I hadn't been gawking, or he hadn't noticed. Good.

"Right on." He beamed at me with those glorious dimples and I found myself smiling back.

He left to take care of the young woman who came in, and I blew out a breath and took a drink of coffee. Cold. Wonderful. I drank it anyway. I felt exhausted by the entire thing and cursed myself for acting like an idiot. It wasn't as if I'd never behaved so ridiculously before, but it had been a long time. A really long time. Since before Alex came along, though I'd rambled a bit in therapy. I was usually fairly self-assured, but moving to a new neighborhood and putting myself out there to make friends was stressing me out a bit.

Not that I'd put myself out there enough. I hadn't used that DadBook site yet, though I'd let Amanda sign me up. I was technologically competent no matter how I pretended not to be, and she knew it, but it was one of our things, and so we both played along.

The phone let out a little ding. Amanda's ding. Thank god. I picked up the phone and read the message.

PANDA: _I'm sorry about this morning. ): ): I just didn't want to talk right then_.

What a relief. I drew in a deep breath, feeling choked up. I took a drink of coffee to collect myself, and when I glanced Mat's way he was ringing up the customer but looking at me with a questioning expression. I nodded and smiled as I held up the phone, and he grinned and gave me a thumbs up. All was right again.

ME: _It's okay, honey. I'm sorry too. I was being too pushy. You have the right to your privacy. I was just worried, that's all_.

I left it at that, and when she texted back a string of hearts I told her I loved her, she told me she loved me too, that was the end of it. I wanted to push, but I knew better. I couldn't risk her shutting me out. She was 18 now, and maybe she was still financially dependent on me but I was very aware of the fact that if she wanted to she could legally grab her things and move out at any time. There was no way I was going to pull the whole _as long as you live under my roof!_ bullshit. I would never do that to her. I knew exactly how that felt, and I refused to do that to my daughter.

I loved her so much.

I finished the drawing as I drank my coffee, maybe another fifteen minutes or so to get it to a point where I was satisfied with it. I had to admit it was awfully cute. I thought about adding glasses and dimples to the spoon, but that would have been going too far.

Once I was done I packed up my things and looked outside, glad to see that it wasn't raining. I did have some work to do back home; the laptop was fine for some things, but my desktop had more power.

The cup was dropped off in the bin, and I looked around for Mat but didn't see him anywhere. There was some noise in the little kitchen. I considered waiting for him to come back out, but that seemed too needy. I couldn't leave without paying for the coffee with the drawing, though, and I didn't have his number or email address.

DadBook. I could send it to him through DadBook.

I pulled out the tablet and downloaded the app onto it. I hadn't really used it yet, though I had browsed everyone's profiles. I really needed to fill out my own, dull as it might be. The other guys did seem to use it, sharing pics of their kids and funny memes, debating politics in a so far friendly manner, and all I had done was lurk in the background while appearing offline. No one had messaged me through it, but I hadn't exactly reached out either. Craig and I texted several times a week, and the others were always friendly… Well, all right, Robert was still an enigma and kept odd hours and pretended not to see me, and Joseph's wife Mary waved in a way that managed to be dismissive. Maybe I was just reading too much into it.

Still, I needed to make some sort of attempt at connecting with the other guys. I wanted a better relationship with Mary, too. She had to feel horribly outnumbered. I wished there were more moms on our street. I saw Smashley over at Craig's every so often, from a distance, and I'd spotted what I assumed was Brian's ex-wife once, but I would have liked more of a mom presence in our neighborhood.

The picture was sent and obligation fulfilled, and so I packed the tablet away again and headed home, obsessing over how the encounter could have gone better. I didn't need my child to be a buffer. I was a grown man. I could make my own friends. It would be extremely sad if I couldn't manage that living on a cul-de-sac with a bunch of other men who had been nothing but friendly to me. They hadn't reached out, but maybe they were letting me settle in. I'd lived here a few weeks now, but that wasn't long. Maybe they were also respecting my space. Only Craig and Joseph knew that I was a widower, but maybe they had let the other guys know. Hugo might also know, if only because he was Amanda's teacher and a child losing a parent wasn't a common occurrence.

Once I was home I made myself some tea and turned on some music then settled in front of the computer, setting my phone nearby, and I saw the notification light blinking. I hadn't heard a text come in.

I swiped it on and saw a notification on the D icon for DadBook, and felt a tiny thrill. Mat. Surely it was Mat.

Smiling, I messaged back. God, this was so much easier. I could take my time formulating my response, without any of my awkward ums and uhs and little mannerisms to betray me.

Shit. I shouldn't have used the blushing emoji. Maybe he wouldn't notice the blush?

I'd only signed it with my initials, MR, as I did little drawings like this, but I signed my paintings digital and otherwise with M. Rivera. Alex had joked that I should sign them all MR, since I was his Mr., but I liked seeing my last name on there. It was Alex's name too. I'd taken his as soon as I could legally set my old one aside. Even if he was gone, I was still Mr. Rivera and always would be.

This felt better. I was certain Mat liked this better too, but...it didn't seem like it was enough. He was my next door neighbor. I had bought this house with the intent of staying here the rest of my life. Aging in place. Mat and I would live side by side the rest of our lives, potentially. I had to get over this awkwardness I felt around him that I didn't feel around the others. Maybe getting to know him better would help me get over this silly infatuation, too.

It took a good fifteen or twenty minutes of working up my courage before I started to message him again.

I quickly erased that one before I sent it. I tried again.

****

No, not that either. Everything sounded like a come-on.

And then Mat added onto the message. I stared at it.

Did I like music? I loved music! I always had it playing in the house. And even if I hadn't liked music… Mat had asked me to hang out. Me. The dorkiest person I knew, and he was so cool. He was into music, and he ran a coffee shop, and he had tattoos. He was so much cooler than I was, but then pretty much everyone was.

Was I interested? Hell yes. I knew of The Sound Garden, a venue further downtown. I'd never been cool enough to go there, or young enough, but in Mat's company I might be accepted by the youths.

Maybe. Still, it was a chance to get to know Mat better, and he had invited me. Me! And he'd called me a friend. We weren't friends yet, but after this we might be.

I exited the app and set down my phone, feeling warm and fuzzy. He'd take care of me. That was so sweet. I didn't have a clue what I was doing, or what to wear, but maybe Amanda could help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The coffee spoon guy is my feeble attempt at what Mitchell drew, but I'm not an artist, so...
> 
> Hopefully the DadBook messages show all right. I thought about doing the same with text messages, but there is a lot of texting in this story, so I'm sticking with the texts being in italics with the sender in caps, and DadBook being in the pic format. Had a lot of fun creating those though with the fake message website I found.


	4. Chapter 4

"No."

I sighed in frustration and put back the button-up white dress shirt. "I need some help here, honey," I pleaded. "Just do it for me, okay?" I was whining a little, but I was desperate. It was 7:30. I had just showered but I was starting to sweat.

Amanda must have noticed my distress. "Jeez Pop, this isn't a date," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I know that," I said in much more glum a tone than I intended. "Believe me, I'm well aware." Her expression turned to worry, and I mumbled, "Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"Do you, uh… Have you been thinking about it?" Her voice was small, tentative. A little bewildered. I grimaced, and she sighed, "Oh Daddy," and hugged me. "It's okay. Dad's been gone for almost two years now. It's okay to move on."

I whispered into her hair, "I know, but it's hard. He was…" Everything to me. All I'd ever known. Other than a few drunken fumbles at parties that Craig had dragged me to, Alex was the only person I'd ever really been with. It had taken a few weeks of dating for us to have sex, and after that he was the only one for me. That was what made my crush on Mat so confusing.

"Maybe you should ask out Mr. Vega."

"Good god, no," I breathed, aghast. He was gorgeous, he really was, but he was Amanda's teacher, and I was adamant that I wasn't going to date a neighbor. "Honestly honey, just because we're both gay doesn't mean anything." Of all the times I'd spoken with him, there just hadn't been even a hint of anything there for me. That was almost always how it worked for me; I appreciated the aesthetics of other men, and whatever twinges of attraction I'd felt had always been toward other males, but most of the time I just didn't feel much... _want_ , like most people did. I hadn't really until I'd started to fall for Alex.

But Mat. There was just...something about Mat.

"I know, but he's a nice guy. A little uptight, but a nice guy."

"Not interested." I patted her back. "Besides, what if Ernest ended up your brother?" She made a sound of horror and pushed away from me, making me chuckle.

She picked out a combination of clothes for me that I eyed suspiciously, but I had to trust her instincts. Her outfits were always cute. I wondered what she would do when Alex's jacket finally began to fall apart. That thing was older than her. She didn't wear it when it was hot, but the rest of the time she did.

I put everything on and I looked...almost cool. I wasn't quite there, but I was closer than I had been ten minutes ago. I couldn't hide the predominant gray in my hair, or my doughy center, but hopefully it would be dark in there. Mat didn't have any gray in his hair yet that I could tell. I hoped he wasn't too much younger than me.

As if it mattered. Good grief.

Amanda looked me over with a critical eye then gave a single nod. "Acceptable."

"Thanks, honey." That was high praise coming from her.

"I was going to have the Emmas over tonight if that's okay?"

"Of course. I'm not sure how long I'll be out. We might grab a bite to eat afterward."

"Don't hurry back!"

I laughed as I went out the door, trying to sound casual. This wasn't a date. There was nothing about any of this that was date-like.

I had my pride though, and the nod and smile of approval from Mat did a lot to help it along.

"Hey, look at you," he called. "Not bad, not bad. You ready to go tear it up?" He wasn't wearing anything all that different from what he usually wore, but he looked good. He always looked good.

"Yes, I am absolutely prepared to mosh the pit at the dope 'cert being held at this fine venue."

He eyed me narrowly, though I saw the hint of a smile. "You have got to be making this up."

I laughed nervously. "Maybe?"

Mat patted me on the shoulder then motioned for me to come along. "What did I tell you? You're in good hands. Don't let this being a punk band scare you off. Everyone's real supportive at these things."

I decided honesty was the best policy. "I'm at least twice as old as everyone else who'll be there."

"You'd be surprised." He smiled at me. "I can't believe I get to take you to your first concert in twenty years. It's an honor. Besides, I'm not a kid either. No one's given me any grief at these." He shrugged. "I don't know, I think they like seeing full-blown adults at these things. It lets them know that what they like is real, you know? Some things aren't just a phase or something to outgrow."

Wow, that was a really nice sentiment. It tugged at an old hurt, one that had long ago healed over. Mostly. I didn't let it get to me. I was going to enjoy myself tonight no matter what it took.

"So...do you go by Mitch, or--"

"No. Mitchell." I knew my tone was too curt, and I softened it with a smile. "I'm sorry, I just… really prefer to go by Mitchell, if that's all right." My family had called me Mitch, no matter how I'd protested, from a very early age. I'd made sure everyone else called me by my full name, but the sound of it shortened still rankled me.

He looked perplexed. "Absolutely. It's your name, dude. Mitchell it is." He winked at me. "Don't call me Matthias and we're good."

"Already forgotten."

* * *

Oh... _shit_.

Shit shit shit.

I couldn't find Mat. The Sound Garden hadn't been this packed just five minutes ago. I still had a half-full beer in my hand and I was being jostled, and Mat was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't a tall guy, but he was average, and I was just a wee bit more than that, and I didn't see his head anywhere.

Goddammit.

I guzzled down the beer. I was going to need the liquid courage to brave the crowds without Mat. I tossed the empty cup in the nearest trash, which I was ironically able to find with ease, unlike him.

What if there was a fire? There were so many people here that surely some sort of fire code was being violated right now. Where were the exits? How would I reach one in an emergency?

How would Amanda tell people that she'd lost her other dad in a fire at a punk rock concert? No one would believe the poor girl.

Wading back in, I headed towards the front, the same direction we had last been going together. Someone grabbed my left wrist from behind, and without thinking I turned with my fist raised. I gasped and quickly dropped it, horrified. Mat laughed and held up his hands, and I muttered, "I am so sorry. I wasn't thinking." I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten in a fight. Well no, I could, and Craig had been involved somehow, though I couldn't remember the reason for it. I'd won, and that was all that mattered.

He said with a grin, "Hey, those reflexes could come in handy, dude. No harm done. I'm just glad I was able to find you. I thought I'd lost you." He nodded with his head towards the front. "Come on. Hold on tight."

Mat took my hand, and I felt a hot blush instantly coming on. Thank god for the bad lighting in here. It was all I could do not to rub my thumb against his hand. His was sweaty, but I didn't mind. I didn't mind at all. I was just so...glad. To be holding hands with anyone, even if it was just a friend. It had been so long since I'd gotten any form of human interaction like this with anyone but my daughter. Nothing but handshakes, and those hugs from Craig when we first met again.

He kept hold of me the whole way, not letting go until we'd reached our former spot and shoehorned our way in. He stayed close though, our shoulders touching, as he talked about some of the shows he'd seen. He was so much cooler than I was. It wasn't that I didn't like live music. My tastes were just a lot more pedestrian than his. I hadn't heard of most of the bands he'd seen.

Hadn't he mentioned to that skeezy kid Pablo that he was 'out of the game'? Had he been involved in the music industry somehow?

I wanted to ask him, but PUP was setting up, and I was keenly aware of how very full my bladder was. Stupid old man bladder! Mat saw my expression and trailed off, and I made a face and said, "Too much beer."

"Oh man, you'd better hurry. Show's about to start." He pointed towards the direction of the restrooms.

I wove my way through the crowd of very young people, afraid I was going to get a shove or a jab or a cry of _Watch it, grandpa!_ Nothing of the sort happened, but I had good footwork, and I made it to the restrooms.

Restroom. Singular. With a very long line.

Crap. Not again. There was no way I was going to find Mat a second time. To be fair, I hadn't found him the first time either. I hoped he stayed put. He should spare himself and enjoy the show without me. I was dead weight at this point and didn't deserve saving again. The show started right when I was getting up to the door.

My business finally, finally done, I stepped out of the restroom and steeled myself. Girded my loins. I was a dad, dammit. I'd done harder things than navigating a crowd of rowdy twenty-somethings.

Against nearly insurmountable odds I made my way back to where I'd left Mat, but he was nowhere to be found. Everyone was jumping in place up and down, or doing something that could possibly be interpreted as dancing, but Mat wasn't there. Surely he hadn't gone looking for me. Surely--

I didn't realize human beings had a gravitational pull. It was quite the revelation. I was swept into a swirling Charybdis of humanity, a very moist one that smelled of sweat, leather and clashing colognes.

Oh bloody _hell_. I was in the _pit_. I was in a fucking mosh pit.

Amanda was never going to believe this. If I survived to tell her.

 _When in Rome_ , I told myself, and tried to blend in. I was being beat to hell in there, but none of it was intentional, and I was going to give back as good as I got. No one was going to say that Mitchell Rivera was a coward.

All right, I was a coward, but I knew a losing battle when I saw one. I was resigned to my fate. If this was how I went, so be it. My ashes would be thrown into the sea as my daughter tearfully whispered, " _He was cool. For just five minutes, my dad was cool_."

Someone grabbed me from behind, and I avoided pulling back my fist this time. I was glad of that, because I heard a familiar laugh behind me.

Mat's dark eyes twinkled with approval. "Wow dude, you're hardcore!" He put his arm around me and swept me along. His grin was the third most beautiful thing I had ever seen, right behind Alex on our wedding day and Amanda the day we had taken her home.

Funny how much more fun it was doing this with someone I knew. Someone I liked. It had been so much easier to talk to him tonight than it had been yesterday. I hoped we had broken the ice. There was nothing like slamming into people half our age in a mosh pit to do it.

His body felt so good against mine though. Warm, and male, and god he smelled good.

We managed to survive the song, and Mat kindly led me out of the pit. He had tiny beads of sweat on his brow and he was grinning a mile wide. "Man, that was wild," he said breathlessly.

"Yeah," I croaked. God, he was gorgeous, all sweaty and out of breath, still holding onto me, so very close. I didn't want this. Not with him. It was a blatant lie I told myself as I patted his shoulder.

He let go of me and we moved to a safe distance to watch the rest of the show, and I enjoyed myself, a lot. He was good company. Undemanding. He seemed comfortable with me now, and I appreciated that. I got the feeling that wasn't a common thing with him.

I went to wait outside when the show ended so that Mat could say goodbye to the people he knew, and the cold air was a welcome slap in the face. _Keep it cool, Mitchell. Keep it cool_.

Sweaty. God, I was sweaty. I could feel a bead running down into my eyebrow, and I lifted the tee shirt I was wearing to wipe off my face. I had survived the pit, and I wasn't about to be blinded by my own bodily fluids.

The shirt fell and I grunted in dismay to see Mat standing there. Mat had seen my dad belly. Mat with the physique that rivaled Craig's. I had just blown any slim chance I might have had. Someone who looked like Mat wasn't going to be interested in someone who looked like me. Alex had never cared, but that was different. I wasn't sure how, but it was completely different.

God, what was I thinking? I didn't want Mat to be interested in me. I didn't want to be interested in Mat either. We were next door neighbors.

He held out something, and I stared at it.

"For you, dude," he stated. "I saw you eyeing it back at Pablo's stand. I figured anyone who tears it up that hard on his first time out in two decades deserved a reward."

"Wow," I whispered. I shook the shirt out. It was the VACANT VEIL shirt I had been admiring. It honestly was a great design. The kid had promise. "Thank you." It was even in my size. I spared a moment to be grateful that he hadn't bought it too large. That really would have stung my pride.

"No problem."

"How much was it?" I reached for my wallet, and he shook his head.

"You're not paying me for that," he said with good-natured firmness.

I didn't push the issue and chuckled as I held it up to myself. "Now I can finally blend in and be accepted by the youths. I'll be unstoppable both in the pit, as we were tonight, and out on the wider field of battle."

Mat laughed loudly. "The youths don't stand a chance, man."

The headliners came out to pack their gear in their van, and of course they knew Mat. God, he was cool. It was a level of coolness that I didn't even fantasize about aspiring to.

After they left he saw my expression and laughed again. "You hungry?" he asked. "I know a good 24-hour diner just ten minutes from here."

"Starving," I answered. I really was. If moshing burned up this many calories I'd have to start doing it more. In my new VACANT VEIL tee shirt.

The diner was everything I hoped it would be. The floor was black and white checkerboard. The seats were bright red vinyl. The tabletops were Formica edged with chrome. Perfect. Retro bliss. We had talked the entire way here, and we took a booth in the mostly empty restaurant. I was having so much fun I never wanted the night to end. It was past one o'clock in the morning, hours past my usual bedtime, but I didn't care.

It was easy to talk to him, even under the glaring fluorescent lights, and he seemed comfortable with me too. This was so nice. He told me more stories of shows he had seen and people he had met.

Then I ran into the wall.

He had been in a band, when he was younger. I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't push. Still no mention of an ex-wife. He quickly changed the subject, and I went along with it. I knew how it felt to be pushed to talk about things I didn't want to. I needed it, sometimes, but I never liked it. He liked talking about Pablo though, and I could tell he sincerely liked the kid. He was being raised by a single mother and Mat helped as much as he could in providing a guiding hand and a positive adult male influence. He was such a great guy. It was nice, what he was doing, and I told him so.

"Hey, thanks," he said with a bashful look down at his loaded fries. "I do what I can, you know? Us single parents have to stick together."

I nodded, a lump in my throat. "Yes." He didn't ask about Alex, if he even knew about him, or my situation. I wouldn't have minded talking about it. I'd rather have it out there than have people tiptoeing around it, but… It would have been nice to be asked. As we talked we almost, almost, got there. Maybe he was fishing and I was oblivious to the lure. I couldn't risk it. I was extremely sensitive to any appearance of self-pity and whining on my part. I spared Amanda the worst of it. I had to be strong for her. I always had to be.

We talked the entire way back to our street, though I was quiet and feeling sad and sorry for myself. I didn't like it when I withdrew into myself like this, but what else could I do?

We reached the sidewalk in front of Mat's house, and he gently gripped my arm. "Hey man, thanks for coming out with me tonight," he said. "I uh...hate going to these things alone. I'm glad you could make it."

I smiled briefly. "Fortunately, I have a very open schedule. Or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it." His expression fell a bit, and I silently yelled at myself for it. I just hadn't needed to say that. I fixed a broader smile on my face. "I'm going to go soak and take some ibuprofen. I have the feeling I'm going to be sore tomorrow." Mat nodded. "Thank you for inviting me. If you ever want to go again just hit me up."

"Will do."

I smiled again and gave him a little nod then headed for my house. I could see Emma P.'s car, or maybe it was Emma R.'s, in our driveway. I could hear animated chatting coming from her room then peals of laughter. What a great sound. I'd always wanted that for my daughter, to have a life filled with joy.

Being as quiet as I could, I set my keys and wallet on the kitchen counter then went to get my pajamas. Maybe I'd settle for a shower and ibuprofen. I was starting to stiffen up, and I was in a mood, and with girls in the house and one bathroom I wasn't about to linger in the tub. It was an older house and the tub was small and not very deep anyway. Soaking was hard to do with cold knees.

I quickly showered then popped a couple ibuprofen. Just washing had helped, though the sadness and...disappointment, I suppose it was, lingered. I was disappointed. That was part of my problem. I'd wanted someone to talk to the way I used to with Alex. I could live without a partner if I just had one or two people I could really talk to like that. Craig always tried to keep things light and cheerful, and I appreciated that, but it wasn't always what I needed, or wanted. I could call up my old therapist, if she was still practicing, but it hurt to have to pay someone to listen to me.

Once I was in bed with the lights off I heard a soft tap on my door. I called her in, and Amanda stuck her head in, wearing pajamas. "Hey Dad, how did it go?" she asked.

"Fun. We had fun." I cleared my throat and said in a light voice, "You'll be proud to know that your dad moshed, Panda. Involuntarily, but I moshed all the same."

"No way!"

"Way." I rubbed my eyes. "How about I make cinnamon rolls for you girls tomorrow?"

She said in a hesitant tone, "We're going out to breakfast in the morning. Emma P. brought her car. But thanks!"

"No problem, honey. Tell the girls hi for me." There was a catch in my voice, and I hated myself for it, especially when she clucked her tongue and came over to kiss my forehead. I didn't try to make any more conversation, and neither did she, maybe sensing I wasn't up for it. She let herself out and I heard hushed talk in her room down the hall.

I picked up my phone to turn on the sound machine app, and to my surprise the notification light was on. I unlocked it and saw a little 1 on the DadBook icon. It was awfully early in the morning for that, probably close to 3am.

The message was from Mat, and I debated not opening it. He had sent it just a few minutes ago.

 Maybe I shouldn't answer it. It was risky, responding when I was in this kind of mood. I had to say something, though.

I deleted then re-added the exclamation points multiple times, then finally decided to leave them. This wasn't Mat's fault. He wasn't my emotional support. None of the other guys here were. Everyone else had their own issues, though Brian acted like he breezed through life trouble-free. I didn't believe it for one second. There was something there, there had to be, and by god someday I would find it.

Mat typed something then stopped, then typed again, then stopped. It went on like that for several minutes. Christ, I just wanted to go to sleep.

I closed the app and turned on the sound machine, a soothing blend of the ocean and white noise. I turned it up louder to drown out the girlish whispers that I could barely hear. I'd slept with white noise for so long that I couldn't sleep without it, even when Alex had been around. When it was too quiet my thoughts were too loud.

It took me so long to fall asleep that I heard birds singing by time I drifted off. I dreamed about the mosh pit, but instead of getting swept up in the circle I was trying to move against the tide of people. No matter what I did I couldn't get my bearings or change direction. It was frustrating, upsetting, and when I saw Alex dance past me I woke with a whimper.

I rolled off my back onto my side to wipe my eyes and look at the clock on my phone. 5:48. I'd been asleep barely an hour and a half. I knew that it was pointless to try to go back to sleep. I was going to be surly and exhausted today, and the soreness had already set in. I really needed to start exercising again. I reminded myself I was going to be 50 in a bit less than three years, and I wanted to have a healthy middle and old age. I had to wonder why I should bother, considering I was going to grow old and die alone, and at that I threw back the covers and grabbed my phone and got up. I was not going to let myself sink into that pit.

The house was silent, the girls sleeping, and I walked quietly down the hall to the living room. I set a pot of coffee to brewing and grabbed my laptop then settled onto the couch with a blanket. It was Sunday and I had no plans, so if I fell asleep there, as I knew I would, it hardly mattered.

I got comfortable with a mug of coffee, and it wasn't anywhere near as good as Mat's bean juice artistry, but it would do.

I opened DadBook and looked at the other dads' profiles. I needed to branch out and stop obsessing over Mat. Well, no, it wasn't to the point of obsession. Not yet. Better to nip that in the bud and hit up some of the other dads and make some friends.

Damien had seemed nice. Interesting. He reminded me of the Cure kids I'd been friends with in high school. I'd been dying to see inside his house ever since the barbecue. It had to be as amazing inside as it was outside. I'd send him a message tomorrow and see if he wanted to meet up for tea or something. He seemed more a tea kind of guy. And I would pad out my own profile a bit more. Try to sound interesting, even if I wasn't.

_Good god, man, snap out of it!_

On a whim, I opened an incognito browser and searched Mat's name. I didn't get any hits until I searched on 'mat sella musician'.

Wow. Oh wow.

There were pictures of a younger Mat, clean-shaven, his hair shorter and in braids instead of dreads. Pictures of him playing mostly the guitar, but also playing the piano. The drums. The trumpet even.

Holy shit.

A beautiful young woman was in most of the pictures. _Stillness The Dancing_. That had been the name of their band. They'd played sort of folksy indie music, which I happened to like a great deal. A couple other guys had rotated in and out, but it had consistently been Mat and...Rosa. Her name had been Rosa Martinez. She'd been really pretty. I found a few grainy Youtube videos of some shows and I started getting choked up. Mat had a lovely voice, and my god was he talented. Rosa had been very talented as well, and it was clear how much they'd loved each other, because it was also clear as day that this was Carmensita's mother.

I searched her name next, and the first thing that came up was her obituary. Oh damn. _Damn_. She'd passed away nine years ago from breast cancer, at the age of thirty-two. It was rare for a woman to get it that young, extremely rare. It must have been a really aggressive form of it.

I closed the browser then my laptop and set it aside then laid down on the couch, saddened. What an awful way to die. I counted myself lucky, most of the time, that Alex had gone quickly. Car accident. T-boned by a drunk driver, killed on impact. He hadn't suffered, and I hadn't had to watch him do so. I hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye, neither of us had, but it had always been a comfort to me that he had died instantly. What must it have felt like to Mat, to watch his wife waste away like that? And poor Carmensita, too young to understand what was going on?

God, Mat had been raising her alone for _nine years_. That had to have been hard. Really damn hard. At least Amanda had been 16 when we'd gotten the news. I had done my share of child-raising alone, while Alex traveled, but he had never been more than a call or text away. I hadn't been utterly alone by any means, and Alex had been home more often than not. Maybe Mat or Rosa had family that could have helped, if they lived nearby. It wasn't a given that he'd had any help at all.

In hindsight I felt as if I'd acted completely self-absorbed last night. I knew Mat had had the benefit of living here for years and years, and he had a lot of friends and had people to talk to, and I was new and trying to figure out how I fit in and who I could really connect with, if anyone. I'd never had a really close friend, other than Craig long ago, a best friend, but then I hadn't really tried all that hard either. I'd always pulled away when anyone else tried, afraid to get attached. And I knew why, but that didn't stop me from doing it.

Maybe Mat hadn't wanted to pry. Maybe he was still feeling shy.

Maybe it was a really bad idea to try to get any closer to someone I was attracted to. We could be casual friends and maintain a comfortable distance. Comfortable for me, anyway. Time would take the shine off the newness and the attraction would fade, and maybe then we could get closer.

Yes. Excellent plan.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, as I heard whispering and the front door opening and closing softly. The girls were going out to breakfast. Or maybe brunch. That was nice. I liked seeing Amanda spend time with her friends. It was good that she had them.

When I awoke again the house was still silent, and I glanced at the old clock on the wall to see it was nearly 1pm. Good god. I felt totally disoriented, and a little hung-over, even though I'd only had a few beers spaced out over the night and had never gotten more than a tiny bit tipsy. Half my Sunday was gone.

Worth it, though. I couldn't wait to tell Craig that I'd moshed last night.

And oh god, did I feel it in every part of my body today. I ate a bowl of cereal to have something in my stomach so I could take more ibuprofen, and I forced myself to stretch out, no matter how much it hurt. I felt like an 80 year old man. It wasn't a good feeling. I wondered how Mat was doing today, or if he was even up. Who had watched Carmensita last night? He hadn't mentioned where she was, but he was a really attentive father--all the dads were--so he wouldn't have left her home most of the night alone. She was 11, old enough to spend a couple hours alone, but not most of the night.

I heard the thud of a basketball on pavement, and I shuffled to the front window with the blanket wrapped around me to twist open the blinds a bit and let the light in. I hissed and rubbed the crust from my eyes. Ah, there she was. Maybe she'd spent the night at Craig's. She was out there playing basketball with the twins. I scanned the cul-de-sac and saw Brian's daughter sitting on her front steps watching them with a sad look on her face. Oh man. The poor kid. Daisy had taken a shine to Amanda, but she didn't seem to relate well to the other kids, and it wasn't for the reasons that Brian had said. Still, she seemed like a nice girl. Maybe we could have her and her dad over for a movie night. I could tolerate Brian's boasting for a few hours. Maybe.

It was too much effort to get dressed, so instead I reheated that morning's coffee and got comfortable on the couch with my laptop. Damien. I would message Damien. I had to take the reins of my own… I lost the analogy, but the intent was there. No one was going to do this for me, so it had to be me.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow. That had so been not what I expected.

I pulled into the driveway and sat there for a moment, trying to process the afternoon.

The inside of Damien's house had been everything I expected. He had been a wonderful host, a true gentleman, and having a real afternoon tea had been a delightful touch. His backyard had been gorgeous and I couldn't wait to see it in the fullness of summer. Maybe he'd let me paint there, when I was ready to get back into it. He handled his son so well, too. I found myself really liking him and looking forward to getting to know him better. Lucien seemed like a good kid too, one going through a rough patch like every kid does at some point, and it had really warmed my heart to see how he and his dad related to each other. I really admired how Damien had kept his cool, too. That was A-level parenting right there.

Yeah, I was definitely going to hang out with him again. Even with his eccentricities he had seemed really approachable. Easy to talk to. Interesting. Kind-hearted. That had been a huge offer of trust, too, letting me drive him to the school and get even a little involved in the situation.

Hugo, too. I needed to try to connect with Hugo too, as more than Amanda's dad with Amanda's teacher. He would only be her teacher for another month and a half, but I'd be living here for decades more. I'd message him later tonight.

Amanda was home watching tv, and I settled in next to her and told her about everything, leaving out the school incident, and I was shocked to realize she'd already heard about it. Seen it. She showed me the video, and I stared in disbelief. I had to admire Lucien's plan, though. He had to have known he would get caught. How could he not? And as I'd told Damien, the kid's bricklaying was tight. Maybe he had a future in a trade. Not everyone was cut out for college.

When we headed to bed I saw the notification light. I couldn't believe how often it lit up since moving here. That was a good thing.

I had a DadBook message, and to my surprise it was from Hugo. Then I read the message.

Oh crap.

It was a cry for help, and I'd never been one to resist that, but...middle-schoolers? They were without a doubt the most horrid of childhood ages to deal with, like oversized hormonal toddlers. Still, it was good to be needed. Hugo had asked me for help. It was flattering.

The poor guy. I had a lot of respect for anyone who went into teaching. Hugo seemed to be stretched to his limits, dealing with kids for a living and with a troubled kid of his own. I was home all day and my current project wasn't pressing. I could spare a few hours.

The next morning Amanda came out of her room looking as if she'd been crying. Oh no, not again. I gently tried to get it out of her, with just as little luck as before. Why wouldn't she talk to me about this? I didn't push, and she bantered the way she usually did, and she seemed fine by time she left for school. I was really worried about her, though.

The aquarium trip the next day was worse than I had feared. I had a great time with Hugo, and he wasn't nearly as boring and uptight as Amanda had said he was. How would she know, from just interacting with him in class? But those kids had been hellions, especially the two Animal Rescue Warriors. I was glad that I had been there to help. I was also glad that I had never gone into teaching, as I'd briefly considered when I was young. I would have liked teaching elementary school, but not kids in the throes of puberty.

It was nice though that I had something else lined up with Hugo. I loved cheese! I didn't know there was a restaurant that had cheese boards. I was looking forward to interacting with Hugo one on one. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, but I did like my charcuterie.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and it seemed a bit early, but this wasn't a dinner as such. Amanda was taken aback by how much I liked Hugo, but she was okay with it too. I was glad of that.

I walked to the French restaurant and Hugo was already there. It was amazing how everything was within walking distance of the new house. I needed all the walking I could get. The waitress led us to a corner table, and I hesitated for a split second. Did she think this was a date? Had Hugo asked for this table ahead of time?

Dear god...did _Hugo_ think this was a date?

We took our seat and Hugo let out a huge breath and leaned back in the booth, closing his eyes. "I really have to ask myself sometimes if the retirement benefits are worth it," he muttered. "I've got another 20 years of this ahead of me, and frankly I'm not sure I'm going to make it."

"I'm...sure it must be rewarding at times?" I countered.

He nodded and blew out another breath as he sat up, folding his hands on the table, only a few inches from mine. "It is, definitely. Today was just one of the more trying days." He smiled at me. "Thank you again for rescuing me. Your quick thinking in the penguin exhibit saved the day." I nodded, giving him a quick smile, my thumbs twiddling. His expression turned quizzical as he looked at me. "Everything all right?"

"Oh! Yes!" Of course he had seen right through me. This was a man who dealt with shifty teenagers 40 hours a week. I was as transparent as glass compared to a teen. He lifted an eyebrow, and I said, "I appreciate the invitation to cheese boards. I haven't been as, um, proactive in making friends in the neighborhood as I should've been. It's nice to be able to hang out without any, uh, pressure or expectations." There. It was out there. This was friendly charcuterie, nothing more.

Understanding lit his eyes and he laughed. He patted my hand then leaned back again. "And we haven't been as proactive in welcoming you as we should've been. Asking you to help me chaperone a middle-school field trip wasn't the best way to go about it."

Relaxing, I smiled and said, "It was still fun. It isn't often I get to play the bad cop."

Hugo laughed as the board and the opened bottle of wine came. "Well you're good at it." He poured us both glasses then lifted his. "We make a formidable team, Mitchell."

We clinked glasses.

He was easy to talk to, and we shared the board and the wine and conversation without any further awkward moments. This was so nice. No pressure or expectations. There hadn't been with Damien either. To be honest, there hadn't been with Mat, other than my own crush and hangups.

Hugo leaned his elbow on the table, swirling the red wine around in the glass, his expression turning serious. "It has to be hard, raising Amanda on your own," he said with sympathy. "At least with Grant, my ex, I get a break on the weekends and some small amount of backup when I ask for it. Same with Craig and Brian."

"I do all right," I mumbled. I fiddled with the stem of my glass. "My husband traveled a lot for work. Sometimes he was gone for a few weeks at a time when it was a big project. I was the one who did most of the raising, but he was there, even when he wasn't."

"How did he die, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Um...car accident. He was coming home from a trip. From the airport. He was only a few miles from home when a drunk driver t-boned him at an intersection. It'll be two years this July 14th."

"Oh, hell," Hugo sighed, leaning forward to put his hand over the top of mine. "I'm so sorry. I knew Amanda had lost her father. I ah, probably shouldn't say this, but Robert lost his wife the same way, about four years ago. Car accident, I mean."

"Oh." That was terribly sad. It also explained a lot about Robert's demeanor. "I won't say anything about it to anyone, you have my word." Hugo didn't take his hand away, and I huffed out a short breath and put my other hand on top of his. God, this felt good, this warm human contact and compassion. "I...really appreciate this," I whispered. "It's been hard." I glanced at him and he looked nothing but sympathetic. "The friends were all Alex's, and... well, you know. People don't know how to behave. What to say. It's easier for them to drift away."

Hugo frowned in disapproval. "Easy, but not right."

"True, but...I understand why they did, and I have to take at least half the blame." I sighed. "Craig's been good about it. We lived together in our 20s, I wasn't sure if you knew that. We were college roommates, then we got an apartment together after we graduated. But I got with Alex, and moved, then he and Sm-- Ashley got married later, and moved to California."

"I know everyone calls her Smashley. It's all right."

I laughed and was about to let go of his hand, when a group of people walked up to our table. I glanced up and a jolt went through me to see Mat and Brian with their daughters. Mat was looking at our joined hands with wide eyes, then he blinked and smiled.

"Hey guys," he said as we pulled our hands back. "Good looking cheese board you've got there."

Hugo explained, "Mitchell rescued me from wild middle-schoolers today. Seventh graders. It was brutal. A cheese board and a bottle of wine are the least I can do."

Carmensita said in disapproval, "I heard Molly Henderson tried to liberate a penguin. Doesn't she know it would die?"

"I'm not certain she was thinking that far out," Hugo stated. He smiled at me. "Mitchell saved the day. I distracted the others while he extracted her from the enclosure. It was quite daring."

I laughed, taking a drink of the wine. It really was good wine, though drier than I preferred. "I've never felt so alive," I stated.

Mat said, "I don't know man, you looked pretty alive when we were moshing Saturday night."

Hugo's eyebrows rose and he folded his arms. "Well well well," he murmured with interest.

"Um," I mumbled, my face and ears feeling hot. I looked up at Mat and he was smirking at me. Dimples. Christ.

Brian said, "I noticed you were moving kinda slow when you got the mail Monday." He seemed about to say more when the waitress came by with a small basket and handed out pads and pencils. "Trivia!" he crowed. He pointed his fingers at us. "Prepare to be defeated by Provolone 2: Lost In New York. We've been undefeated for the last month."

We nodded, and the group walked away, but not before Mat cast a quick glance between me and Hugo. I was already blushing, and he didn't seem to be judging, and I wasn't about to let it bother me. Two men could be friends and offer each other comfort without it meaning anything more than that.

"There are team names?" I whispered.

"Nothing formal," Hugo stated. He picked up the pencil and tapped it on the pad. "Should we? Come up with a name?" He smiled and added, "This could end up being a weekly thing, you know. We have to represent."

I chewed on my bottom lip. What name could we use? "Something cheese-related," I suggested.

"Oh, of course. I'd expect nothing less."

I ran through a list of cheese names in my head. I thought of the cheeses that had graced our board tonight. Manchego, brie, havarti…party havarti...

"Havarti...Like It's 1999," I blurted, and Hugo burst into laughter.

"Perfect!"

A guy with a microphone came out, and I asked, "So...do Mat and Brian come every Wednesday?" _Keep it casual, Mitchell_.

Hugo made a sound of assent. "They never miss it. Brian's, ah...little competitive."

"No kidding," I muttered.

"Good guy though. Always willing to lend a hand. Ace contractor. That isn't an idle boast."

The trivia contest began, and by time it ended I was deeply concerned about the mental health of the Quizzmaster. I was also astonished by Hugo's deep wealth of wrestling knowledge. How did he know so much about it? He seemed really passionate about it too.

We won the contest, much to Brian's surprise and dismay, but Mat was a good sport about it, coming over to shake our hands and ask if he'd see us next week. I could do this every week. It would be nice to have a standing event to go to, and I'd enjoyed Hugo's company, and compassion.

We headed home ahead of Brian and Mat, talking easily. He was just so easy to talk to. The wrestling thing had him digging in, though. There had to be a story there. He didn't get upset when I pressed though, and finally he caved in.

He took me to his place, and it looked just as I imagined an English teacher's home to look. Wood paneling. Books were everywhere. It was cozy and comfortable. Ernest was home, some sort of angry, rebellious music blaring from his room, and we passed by it to another room in the back of the house.

What Hugo revealed there was...not at all what I had expected. I thought he might like wrestling, but this? It was clear that he was embarrassed, really embarrassed, but I was completely floored.

"This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen," I breathed. "How long did it take you to collect all this?"

The poor guy was blushing deeply, and it was so charming. It would have been nice if I felt any kind of attraction at all towards him. We seemed really compatible.

His son was a little shit though, and it was all I could do to content myself with glaring coldly at the kid when he busted into the room with a bad attitude. I thought Hugo was being too easy on him, but it wasn't my call to make. Hugo looked so beaten down. Defeated. Tired.

When the kid left, Hugo brought up his ex again, and I carefully suggested, "Have you thought about telling Grant you need his help? It isn't fair to have you doing all the work during the week and he gets all the fun stuff." Hugo grimaced, and I went on, "There isn't any shame in it. You could even try family counseling. I saw a therapist for years in my 30s because of...things. It helped. A lot."

"That's...actually a very good idea," he said in a tone of wonder.

"Ernest will throw a shit fit over it…"

Hugo rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course. What doesn't he sulk over and bitch about?" He sighed and looked at his watch. "I suppose I should fix His Highness some dinner."

"Yeah, Amanda's probably eyeing the ice cream and thinking about making bad choices."

He walked me to the front door, and on the stoop he swept me into a hug. Good lord, I could spend hours like this. He smelled nice. He was more muscular than he looked in his jacket, and I wondered what his hair looked like down, in a purely platonic way. He seemed so grateful that I had been supportive of his wrestling collection, and when we promised to meet up again next Wednesday for cheese and trivia I said I'd be glad to hear more about it, and he just about glowed. This was just so great. I was so happy right now.

I headed across the street, and I was halfway across when I saw Mat's curtains quickly close. The motion was abrupt, and all the lights inside were out, though they came on half a minute later.

Weird.

I wondered how long I'd been in Hugo's house? It couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty minutes. I was already looking forward to next week, though.

And it would be nice to see Mat again. Try with him again. Maybe I could go to The Coffee Spoon Friday and see if he was free that night.

Yes, that was definitely a plan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please make note of the content warnings in the Chapter 1 author's note. They're relevant this chapter.

I watched Mat trying to roll a joint, his hands steady, but things weren't going well. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. Did kids even smoke joints anymore? I was fairly certain they didn't, but we weren't about to go any further than this. I was still amazed that either of us had thought that this was a good idea. Because it wasn't.

I sniffed the bag and asked, "Shouldn't it, um...smell a bit skunkier than this?" It smelled like pizza sauce and looked like broken-up leaves. No bud at all. We should've just gone to a dispensary.

"Man, hell if I know," Mat muttered. "I haven't touched it since Rosa got pregnant, and back then I used a bong."

"Bong. Yes. A bong." Square, I was so square. It was good to know though that Mat wasn't much more knowledgeable at this point than I was. Craig would probably remember. That guy had smoked a lot of weed in college. A lot.

I looked around his place while he struggled with the paper, finally giving up on that one and getting out another. His house was just as cool as he was. There was a loft, and records took up one whole wall. "Your collection is amazing," I stated. As amazing as Hugo's wrestling memorabilia.

He smiled at me. "Yeah, been collecting my whole life. It was great to finally have a place to put all these after being on the road so long. My parents held onto them for me."

"Ah." I rubbed my sweaty hands on my thighs.  _ Be a good friend, Mitchell. He isn't Hugo. You can be the one to reach out first, for once _ . "Do you, um...have a good relationship with them?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, they're great," he said with a nod. "They live down in the Atlanta area. I was going to go visit them once school's out. Dad has a bad back from his time in the service and can't travel far. That's part of the reason I took on Pablo. I can't keep running the shop alone. Carmensita's getting old enough to help in the summers a bit, but it really ties me down." He licked the paper and this time it stuck. The joint looked flawless. "Ta da!"

"Good work."

Mat got up from the couch. "What about you and your parents?" He walked towards the kitchen to root around in a drawer. When I didn't answer he looked at me, and I was staring at the baggie on the table. "Not good, huh?"

"You could say that," I mumbled. I had been expecting questions about losing Alex, but not this.

"Oh hey man, I'm sorry." He sat down with a lighter. He looked concerned. Sympathetic. "When was the last time you saw them?"

"This June it'll be, um… Uh." I cleared my throat. "Well. I haven't seen them since I graduated high school." Mat's eyebrows rose as I could see him doing the math in his head. I nibbled at my lip. "I haven't seen or spoken to anyone in my family since then. Brothers, grandparents...none of them. Though the grandparents are likely dead by now, and maybe the parents too." I winced at the bitter tone to my voice. "Sorry. It was a lot time ago."

Mat slowly shook his head. "Why?" he whispered.

I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants again. "It's a long story."

"Was it because you're gay?"

I laughed uneasily. "All right, maybe it isn't a long story." I hadn't realized Mat knew for sure that I was, but there was no reason he wouldn't know it. "And because I became an atheist. They were extremely religious. Fundamentalist level religious. I had religion beaten into my head for--" I saw his horror and I put up my hands. "No! Oh no no no! They didn't. Do that. Oddly enough." He relaxed but was still frowning deeply. He even looked a little angry. I'd never seen Mat mad before. Not that I'd spent a lot of time with him yet. It was nice though, that he was upset for my sake. "They just...drilled certain things into us. All of us. My brothers took to it fine. I didn't. Always had clean clothes, lots of activities. But I was so... _ angry _ all the time. I hated it in that house. They were always watching me. Waiting for the bad seed to turn or something, I don't know."

"That is beyond shitty, man," Mat muttered. "Treating your own goddamn kid that way."

"There were so many others who had it worse. I had to sleep on the street for a while. Not long, but long enough to hear other kids' stories. It could've been worse. A lot worse." He shook his head again, scowling. I blew out a breath. "It was almost 30 years ago. I got taken in and got assistance. Eventually went to college. Met Alex. Had Amanda. I can't complain, other than… that Alex isn't here." Mat's expression fell, and I took in a deep breath and said, "Anyway! Time to rip the old golf fairway."

He let out a little laugh. "Right on." He handed me the joint and the lighter. "I hope this still works. I use it to light candles once in a while. It's been sitting in the drawer since Christmas."

Candles. That sounded nice. I lit the...blunt, joint, whatever it was, and took a drag. And immediately started hacking. This wasn't what I remembered at all. I passed it over to Mat, eyes watering, and he took a hit as well. His reaction was even worse.

"What is this shit?" he croaked.

"Oh god," I whispered. Was it laced with something? Why would Lucien do that to us? We were neighbors! Not that it mattered!

Mat sniffed the burning end, then he licked his finger and dipped it in the baggie then tasted the herb. "Yeah. Oregano."

"That little bastard," I breathed. "The little shit cheated us." I wasn't proud of my language, but at the moment I was completely appalled.

"Looks that way." He stood and took the joint to the sink and stubbed it out. "Want a beer instead? Got some Oregon pale ale I've been working through."

"Sounds great." I stood as well, sweeping up our ill-fated attempt attempt to get high and depositing it in the garbage then wandering over to look at the pictures on the walls. And of course the first one I laid eyes on was a picture of Mat with Rosa and a tiny Carmensita. Mat was kissing Rosa's temple as she laughed. The baby was clapping her hands. The photo was unstaged, with a park or something similar in the background. It might have even been the park not far from here.

Mat brought me the beer, and when he realized what I was looking at I said, "She's really beautiful. Your wife?" He nodded and sipped his beer. There were a few other pictures that included Rosa, but most were Mat and Carmensita. "I...haven't been able to put up any pictures," I mumbled. "I'm not sure I will."

"Hey man," Mat said with sympathy, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Craig told me what happened. If you're not ready, you're not ready. And if you never are, that's okay too." He squeezed my shoulder then let go. "Rosa lived here. We bought this house together. It isn't the same."

"You're right. It isn't." I frowned. "Still, it feels like I'm…" Betraying his memory, by keeping pictures of him shut away. I couldn't say it though. This had come up so suddenly, and it felt weird to talk about it with someone I was attracted to, someone who had been through a worse loss than mine. It was good though of Craig to get it out there, so I didn't have to explain it. I wondered if Mat had asked, or if Craig had volunteered it to everyone. I didn't mind if Craig did, but I wasn't sure how I felt about the possibility of Mat asking about me. I wondered if he had asked before or after our night out. "Amanda's going to be gone in August. She's going to art school in Chicago, almost a thousand miles away. Flights between here and there are fairly cheap, but...I'll be alone in that house, and...I can't."

Mat murmured, "I get it. I really do. Out of all the other guys, here...I get it."

I sucked in a deep breath, pushing the grief away, just enough to give him a quick smile. There was nothing but sympathy in those deep brown eyes. He was standing close enough that I could smell him, the coconut in his hair and a faint spicy scent that might be his deodorant or cologne, not overwhelming, just right. "I shouldn't unload all this on you," I said with an awkward laugh as I moved away to look at some posters on another wall. "I already did that to Hugo."

"You're not unloading, and even if you were that's okay."

"We talked about Alex, but not the uh...parental thing. Alex was estranged from his parents too, for pretty much the same reason, but they were back in Puerto Rico, and mine are just up in Boston." Alex had been bisexual, but he had preferred men and ended up with me. His family at least had tried to get him to change his mind. Tried to get him to stop dating the occasional guy, tried to get him to stop seeing me. Had never threatened to cut him off, though they'd preached at him every chance they got. It was Alex who had cut the ties there, not them, but we'd both felt orphaned all the same.

"Rosa was Puerto Rican too. Her dad's been gone for a long time, but her mom lives in the South End. We see her more than my folks, close as they are. She's been a big help all these years, and Rosa's siblings." He was standing just behind and to the left of me now. He pointed to the framed poster, a sad smile touching his lips. "That was one of the last shows we did, after settling down here. She was already pregnant then."

"The Sound Garden," I whispered. "Wow." I paused then added, "The artwork is gorgeous."

He chuckled. "Yeah, it's my favorite. Her oldest niece did it for us. She's married and has kids of her own now." He sighed wistfully. "Rosa and I traveled all over the States. Lived hand-to-mouth a lot of the time early on, but I wouldn't have traded it for anything, even when I was sleeping in my shitty old van when I started out. Made so many connections, man, especially with the kids. We were just starting to really gain traction when we found out Rosa was pregnant. Being on the road we just sort of… slipped up. We were happy about it, though. We decided to come here, got married, found jobs, bought a house. We'd saved up just enough to buy the coffee shop when we found out she had cancer."

"Christ, I'm sorry," I murmured. I'd already known how she died, but Mat didn't know that, and I was genuinely sorry.

"Hey, it's okay. It was a long time ago. Nine years. And I've had a lot of support from both our families. What did you have?"

I couldn't answer, too sad to do so. My lack of answer was probably answer enough. I hadn't had anyone, just the few of Alex's friends who had honestly tried to help but hadn't known how. And I hadn't known how to ask for help, or known how to gracefully accept what was offered. I'd never been good at that. I still wasn't. I knew some of them still stayed in contact with Amanda, and I knew if she needed anything that they'd be there in an instant, but when I'd said I was fine and brushed them off, eventually they had taken me at my word and stopped trying, for the most part. It was something that still nagged at me, that I had done that to them. I kept telling myself it wasn't too late, that I could reconnect, that they had actually been my friends too, but it had been so long at this point that the thought of reaching out and apologizing was...hard.

He patted my back then moved away to the turntable. "What do you want to listen to next? How about your record?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." I followed him. It was nice just being around him. Calming, now that we'd gotten so many heavy topics out of the way. Of all the dads, I think he understood most where I was coming from. Hugo did of course too, but only up to a point; he at least had supportive family, as did his ex Grant. I saw a dusty keyboard against the wall nearby. "Do you play?" I knew he did, but I couldn't let on without looking like a creeper.

"Nah, not anymore," he said with a shake of his head. "It's Rosa's. I uh, keep up the guitar, but not...that." 

Trying to lighten the mood, I mentioned, "You know, I played keyboards back in high school. You're not the only one who was in a band, I'll have you know." It was a part of my past that shamed me, but he deserved to know.

He brightened up, as I hoped he would. "No kidding!"

"I fronted the hottest seven-piece ska band in the Boston Public Schools system."

"No way!" he laughed. "You had a ska phase?"

I sputtered in mock offense. "Phase? I'll have you know that Skammunist Manifesto was  _ this  _ close to making it big. We got a standing ovation at the senior talent show, but our drummer Jenny McCormack broke up with our guitar player Darren Springstead right after, and it all went to hell." Mat laughed in delight. "I played a little off and on after that, in college, but..." I shrugged. I had conflicted feelings about music, at least playing it. It was another of those things that my parents had forced me into, that I'd ended up passably proficient at. I'd grown to love painting, because it was a solitary endeavor. And I had liked playing piano too, just...on my own terms. I still loved singing, though I hadn't had a lot of reasons to sing for a while.

Mat grinned at me and reached out to turn on the keyboard then pulled out the bench. "Show me what you've got."

I shook my head and waved my hands. "Oh god, I couldn't. It's been twenty years."

"Come on, man. Gimme some of that two-tone love."

When he smiled at me that way, I could hardly say no, and...what he'd said was almost flirty. I knew he wasn't flirting, at all, but I could pretend he was.

I stretched out my fingers then wiggled them and sat down. I set my fingers on the keys and fumbled around for a bit, trying to remember how to do this. I let instinct take over and began to play, but the ska wouldn't come, only something that approximated 'I Would Do Anything For Love'. Not what I'd intended at all.

Mat laughed, "You had a Meatloaf phase too?"

"I had a lot of phases, some of them concurrent." I played a little Chopsticks, and he laughed again. I loved hearing him laugh.

"Classic."

I slid to the side to make room for him, saying, "I'd like to see you do better."

The smile shut off like a light. "I uh…" He grimaced. "Nah, man."

I frowned in confusion. Hadn't he just told me it had been a long time since Rosa died? I knew he had just said that he hadn't touched the keyboards since then, but hadn't it been long enough? "Why not?"

"It's just...been a long time."

"Yeah, but it's never too late to get back into it. You just had a franken-version of a Meatloaf song thrown at you. Surely it can't be worse." I knew that wasn't the reason he didn't want to play, but I had to give him an out. The thing was, he was looking at the keys as if he wanted to. He was chewing on his bottom lip, staring at the keys. I nearly said  _ Rosa would want you to _ , but I didn't know what Rosa would have wanted. I had no right to say anything of the sort.

"Okay," he whispered.

I slid over a bit more and he sat down. He stared at the keys again before looking at me, and I smiled and nodded in encouragement, being careful to not overdo it. He gazed at me for a moment before turning back and laying his fingertips on the keys.

If he hadn't just told me that he hadn't touched the keyboards in nine years, I never would have known it. What he played was...it was... _ gorgeous _ . It was sweet, soft, lilting, full of emotion. I felt like I should know the song, but I didn't think it was anything that had ever been on the radio. Was it something he had written? Or that Rosa had?

It wasn't until he finished that I realized I had tears in my eyes. He was so...so handsome, and the music had been so pretty, and…

"How was that?"

I couldn't answer at first, a lump in my throat, and when he glanced sideways at me I couldn't help gaping at him for a moment before pulling my eyes away. "That was…" I cleared my throat. "Really beautiful. Did you write it?"

"Yeah. For Rosa. A long time ago." He sighed. "It felt good. To play it again. Thank you."

"You should…" Damn lump in my throat. "You should play it at open mic night. Everyone would love it."

"Nah, I never play at those." He shrugged one shoulder, looking down at his hands. "Doesn't feel good anymore. I never liked playing alone, all those people staring at me…" He shook his head. "Nah."

I didn't push, seeing him growing uncomfortable. Maybe it was because I was here. Crying. Sitting too close to him and crying. I slid off the seat and quickly wiped my eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Well it was...it was really beautiful. You're very gifted."

"Hey, uh...thanks man."

"I bet she...she must have loved it." God, he'd written songs for her. He was the kind of man who wrote songs for the person he loved. The woman he'd loved. "Could I...use your bathroom?" I looked around for it, avoiding his eyes. His house was nearly as small as mine, so it couldn't be that well-hidden. I sensed him getting up from the bench and I started towards the short hallway. "Down here, I guess?"

"Yeah. Just on your left." His tone of voice sounded a little off. Strained.

I found the bathroom and shut the door then leaned against it. Christ, I had to get myself together. I wanted to just go home. Flee. But it would have been cowardly. How would I explain any of it?  _ Oh, it's nothing, just me crying because the song was beautiful and so are you, and I'm lonely and really like you and the situation is completely hopeless _ . And it was. It really was.

I didn't really need to pee, but I did anyway, and afterward I blew my nose as quietly as I could then washed my hands. I turned the water to full cold and held handfuls of it over my eyes to calm the redness. I dried my face off then looked in the mirror. Stared at myself, feeling hints of despair creeping in. Hairline receding, mostly gray, skin that refused to tan, nose a bit too long for my face, ears just a bit too prominent, too much weight in places it wasn't supposed to be. I wasn't the kind of person anyone wrote songs about. What chance could I possibly have at this point in my life to find someone? I had nice eyes, I could admit that much, a light blue-gray, but they were a bit red right now. I could only hope that he wouldn't notice, since he only had a few lights in the house turned on.

I didn't stay in there as long as I would have liked, knowing that the longer I lingered the weirder it would look. I didn't need any help in that department.

When I came out Mat was still standing by the keyboard, arms folded as he stared at it. He was frowning, and I nearly begged off then. Said I had a headache. And I was starting to get one, I could feel it. At this point it might go away, if I didn't upset myself any further. I didn't want it to turn into a full-blown migraine. It had been a couple months since I'd had one, and I wasn't going to risk it.

Hoping my voice would stay steady, I said in a cheerful voice, "I think I missed the first few songs of my record."

"No worries. We could start it over. Or you could take it home and listen to it over again."

Was he trying to get rid of me? Or telling me it was okay to leave if I wanted to? "I um...don't have a record player," I admitted, sounding lame. "My entire music collection is digital. Such as it is." I paused then added, "But if it's getting late--"

"Nope. Carmensita's having a sleepover with some school friends and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. We've got plenty of time to spin as many tunes as you want." He looked at me, studying my face before giving me a quick smile. "Want me to start it over? The 12th song is my favorite, but they're all good."

I smiled, just a little, and nodded. "Yeah."

Mat smiled more broadly. "I'll go restart it if you grab us a couple more beers."

I did so gladly. It was a relief that he wasn't throwing me out.

We settled on the couch at a comfortable distance and listened to music the rest of the night. He brought out chips and salsa at one point, then some cheese and crackers, which resulted in him giving me good-natured shit for me and Hugo beating him and Brian last week. He liked our team name, and agreed with me that Brian was too competitive, and that Hugo was a great guy, and that Ernest was a pain in the ass. We avoided any further serious topics, at least anything that had to do with our dead spouses or my painful childhood. It was a good night.

As I left I told him that we had joint custody of the Devendra Banhart album, which he of course already owned, but he told me I could come over and listen to it any time I wanted, and I replied by saying he was welcome to come by and listen to my extensive and very boring collection of Top 40 and indie folk. It was a deal.

He offered to walk me home, and I assumed it was a joke. I lived right next door, and we'd only had a few beers each over the course of the night. He insisted though, and as we walked down his driveway I began agonizing over why he was asking. Did he want to come in? Was I supposed to reciprocate? Amanda was home, and knew where I was, leading to text jokes over the last couple hours about my social schedule outpacing hers.

Mat began, "So…"

"Yeah?"

"Let's not tell anyone about the oregano."

"Agreed." I would have loved to find some way of making Lucien pay for cheating us. I didn't know how, but the kid needed to learn a lesson. I certainly had: only buy pot from professionals. I was too damn old to be starting that up again anyway. Plenty of people did it their whole lives with no ill effects, but I wasn't going to take it up after a 20+ year hiatus.

We reached my door and things were suddenly awkward again. It felt like a date dropping me off, or what I vaguely remembered that feeling like. Craig had loved giving me crap after I'd spent time out with Alex.

"I uh, had a really great time tonight," Mat offered.

"Me too." Other than crying and running to hide in the bathroom, which I didn't think I would ever live down. It would have been nice to sit closer on the couch, just to have some human contact that wasn't my daughter, but maybe that was for the best. I had still gotten a lump in my throat every time I saw a picture of Rosa or thought about that beautiful song that Mat had played.

"If you...um...ever need to talk, you know I'm good for it, right?" I must have hesitated, and he quickly added, "I know you've got Hugo, and Craig's a good buddy, but...you know where I am."

Oh god, I was going to get choked up again. "I really...really appreciate that," I whispered.

"I know what it's like, is all I'm saying. The others don't." He grunted. "Well…most."

"I know about Robert. Enough, anyway."

"Yeah, well the way he deals with it is the wrong way, and he isn't exactly going to be any help. If you ever want to talk, I'm a friend, you know?"

"All right," I murmured. "Thank you."

"Have a good night, dude."

"Yeah, you too." 

He clapped me on the upper arm then went back to his house, and I watched him for a few steps before unlocking my door and going inside.

Dude. Friend. The message couldn't be much clearer than that. I doubted he was deliberately sending one, but it still stung a bit.

Well, it wasn't as if there was any chance that he would see me as anything else.

I went to my room to put my pajamas on, seeing a light under Amanda's door. It was late and the house smelled like food, so she had already eaten. I was hungry, but...not. Mat's song kept repeating in my head, that beautiful song, and the way he'd looked when he was playing it, like he was in pain but also like...like the music  _ had  _ to come out. I felt that way sometimes about my art, or...I used to. I understood.

If hanging out with Mat was going to be like that every time though, I wasn't sure I could keep doing it. No matter how much I had enjoyed it, I could feel myself sliding down, ready to start crying and trying to hold it off and giving myself a headache in the process. If I gave into it I'd get the headache anyway, and the release of letting it out, but Amanda would check on me and worry. We had cried plenty together after Alex died, but not for quite a while. I had to be strong for her, especially if she was going through something herself right now, even if she didn't want to talk to me about it.

But who was I supposed to talk to about  _ this? _ I couldn't talk to Mat about Mat. I couldn't talk to Craig or Hugo about Mat. They would keep a confidence if asked, I knew that, but I didn't want to put them in that position to begin with. They had been friends with Mat a lot longer than I had been. I didn't know what to do.

Nothing. That was all I could do. I would do nothing, and hope that things got better. They usually did, somehow. Eventually.

I didn't realize I had been sitting on the edge of my bed in the dark until Amanda came to check on me. I reassured her and said I wasn't feeling well. It was the truth. I didn't feel well at all right now.


	7. Chapter 7

What on god's green earth had I done? Was I out of my mind?

I hurled in the toilet for the third time that morning, and that was the one that brought Amanda out of her room to pound on the bathroom door. The sound made me groan.

"You okay, Pop?"

"Do I sound okay?" I choked. I coughed and wiped my watering eyes then rinsed my mouth out and flushed the toilet. "I'm sorry, honey," I apologized. "I'm...sick."

I opened the door, and she looked me up and down then waved her hand in front of her face. "Oh. My. God," she stammered. "Oh my god, Dad!"

"Don't judge," I whispered. "Please."

"You're hungover!" she whispered back, eyes wide and disbelieving. "What happened?"

"I was making friends. With Robert."

Her eyes widened further. "Was that you two I heard caterwauling out in the street at 3am?" I winced. "It was," she breathed. "Holy shit."

I was too wrung out to correct her language, and trudged back to my darkened room to fall back into bed. Never again. I hadn't been hung-over since college, and even back then I'd usually gotten drunk off beer, not whiskey. Straight whiskey. I was too goddamn old for this. Robert was older, but he was a professional. I wasn't made for this. Robert was made of sterner stuff.

"Do you--" I squeezed my eyes shut and flinched, and she softened her voice. "Do you want me to get you some crackers and water?"

"That would be great, honey. Thank you." At least it would give me something to throw up. The sheets smelled sour, as did I. No, I smelled flammable. Never again.

Amanda brought back the supplies and I thanked her again with the little bit of strength I could muster.

"I take it all back," she said with worry. "You don't need friends." _Not ones like Robert_ went unsaid.

"It won't happen again. I promise." It was an easy promise to make. I just hoped no one else had heard us singing out in the cul-de-sac last night. Earlier this morning, rather. Whenever it was. I had a good singing voice, if I didn't say so myself, but I doubted I was at peak performance then. Robert hadn't sounded bad either, honestly, but then I had been a lot drunker than him.

God, I couldn't believe I'd gone out pub crawling with my alcoholic neighbor. And sneaked into a movie theater.

Oh god. _Oh dear god_. Ernest. I'd nearly kicked Ernest's ass. A 15 year old child. What kind of monster was I?

Was he going to tell Hugo? How on earth would I explain myself? The kid had kicked me hard, I'd admit, and I'd been drinking, and I was basically fed up with what a little shit he was all the time, but that hadn't justified me grabbing him by the front of his hoodie and swinging him around and shoving him against the alley wall. I hadn't hurt him, but I'd scared the piss out of him.

So...maybe it wasn't an altogether bad thing? His friend had gotten scared too, and Robert had played backup, bad cop and badder cop, and the two boys had run off with their tails between their legs, hopefully with a hard lesson learned.

Maybe I should go confess to Hugo. I'd been meaning to get him out on a weekend, but it was nearing the end of the school year and he was tired and stressed out and all he wanted to do on the weekends was sit at home in silence and read. We had our Wednesday cheese and trivia nights that we never missed, and Team Havarti Like It's 1999 were still the reigning champions, much to Brian's chagrin. I had spent some time with Brian and things were okay between us, I supposed. I didn't take his competitiveness too seriously, and he was good-natured about it. Still, I wondered if he and I needed to have a talk about it. It was getting a little old.

I'd gotten out with Craig a few times too, and we had plans to go camping this summer once it warmed up a bit more. I was prepared this time too, packing list and everything; we'd camped far too many times in college with half our gear forgotten. That wasn't happening again. Damien had become a good friend as well, and because of that Mary had warmed up to me, relatively. I wasn't sure how I felt about being thought of as a nerd, but Damien had grown up with her and assured me that she just had an odd sense of humor. I doubted it was just that, my few encounters with Joseph revealing just how troubled a marriage they had. Still, he seemed like a nice guy too, if very closeted and nearly as unhappy as his wife.

Robert though...if making friends with him was going to cost me my liver, I might need to reconsider. He seemed like he needed a friend, though. Maybe joining him in his bar hopping was Mary's way of trying to be there for him, but it didn't seem to be what he really needed, or seem all that good for Mary. Maybe I'd hit him up again later this week and see if we could do something that didn't involve alcohol.

I loved it here, though. I was an introvert by nature, but I spent plenty of time alone during the day to be all right with my now-busy social schedule. Once Amanda left in August I'd get more alone time than I could ask for. I felt the weeks ticking by with a sense of impending doom. I'd be going to Chicago with her to get her settled in, taking a road trip there to see the sights and spend some quality time together on the way. We planned to stop by Niagara Falls for a day, and we'd made sure our passports were up-to-date so we could see it from the Canadian side, which had the best views. We'd unfortunately have to pass through Cleveland, but we were going to make the most of it and visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Museum of Art then make a detour to the Amish country in Holmes County just south of there. We were going to take our time and just stop wherever took our fancy in between.

We hadn't done anything like this since Alex died, and I was looking forward to it while at the same time I knew I was going to be grieving along the way. And probably crying the entire way back. At least the way back would be quick. I could in theory do it all in one very long day, but I wasn't going to risk driving tired. I wasn't going to risk Amanda losing both her dads, and in the same way.

I needed a pet or something, to keep from being completely alone in the house. Maybe a cat. I wasn't a dog person, especially after my little adventure with Damien chasing Duchess Cordelia all over town, but I wouldn't mind getting a cat after Amanda left for school. Maybe two, a pair of adult cats. I liked cats.

Mat liked cats.

I grumbled and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, hoping I was spared another round at the toilet. I really hoped Mat hadn't heard anything last night. Things were odd enough between us without him thinking I was a drunk. We hadn't gotten together again since the night he'd played that lovely long, but we would sit and drink coffee together at this shop, and I'd gone to the May open mic night and helped him clean up afterward. He was as friendly as ever and everything seemed normal when we were face to face, right next to each other, but I'd caught him staring at me with...some kind of expression, multiple times, when we were across the room from each other. At trivia nights, or when I was sitting in his shop drinking coffee either on my own or with Amanda or a client. I couldn't put my finger on what the expression was, but it was sometimes sad, sometimes anxious, often both. I hoped he wasn't still pitying me over what I'd told him that night. I pitied myself enough.

After a long morning nap I finally hauled myself out of bed at noon, still feeling horrible but in no danger of throwing up again. Amanda was humming softly in her room and I could hear keyboard keys clicking. Good. She had really done a fantastic job of knuckling down for a strong finish to her high school career. I hoped there would be some scholarship money to come out of it. We had started saving for her college education when she was a little over a year old, but we hadn't saved enough, not for an expensive arts college like the one she'd been accepted to. I had Alex's life insurance money, but that was socked away for my retirement and/or emergencies, so we would just have to do our best. I was so proud of her though. Alex would have been too.

I cracked open the blinds and saw Ernest mowing Hugo's lawn. Ernest. Was mowing. The lawn.

He had his usual orange hoodie pulled low over his eyes, and by the jut of his bottom lip he was sulking, also as usual, but he was out there mowing the lawn.

I couldn't help it. I had to know. I texted Hugo.

_ME: I might be hallucinating, but is Ernest actually mowing your lawn?_

It took a couple minutes, but he replied:

_HUGO: I'm glad you said something. I thought I was hallucinating when he asked if I needed help with anything._

_HUGO: I asked Grant if I could have him this weekend, and he actually said yes. We're going to the fair tonight. We're going to do something...fun._

_ME: Godspeed to you, my friend._

He sent me a thumbs up emoji. Wow. That was...great. I knew the fair plans had nothing to do with me, but maybe my flipping out on the kid had actually accomplished something positive. I was a little embarrassed by some of the things I'd said to him, but I was sure Robert would back me up in a court of law if it ended up there.

Surely Robert would back me up.

The fair.

I remembered that Amanda had mentioned wanting to go tonight too, it being a Saturday and the weather nice and also being unlikely that her 47 year old father would be hungover from an ill-considered night of adventure with a neighbor.

Oh god, I could not. I could not handle the thought of going on any rides, no matter how tame, or having the stench of greasy fair food and popcorn and porta potties wafting through the air, assaulting me from all angles.

Amanda wasn't the sort to take no for an answer, however, and at 6:00 we were on our way to the fair. I let her drive the short distance to the fairgrounds by the bay, along with her solemn promise to not make me go on any rides. I was feeling all right at that point, not queasy but not my best, with a headache that I'd already dosed as much as I could.

I don't know though...the fair lights were awfully pretty. I was glad I hadn't begged off going. Amanda and I had gone to the fair almost every year, sometimes with Alex. I wondered if we had ever been here at the same time as any of my new neighbors? It was an odd thought. Amanda would come home every summer after this, so we could continue to go, but there was something special about this one. This was her last one as a...kid. She was 18 now, a young woman, but she was still my child, and...I was going to make myself cry if I kept this up.

We got our bracelets and headed in. It seemed unnecessary for me to get a bracelet too, but Amanda insisted, saying the carnies needed our support. Fair enough.

My daughter took me by the hand and steered me towards the food carts, and I felt my stomach lurch a tiny bit as the smell of sausage dogs hit my nose. God help me. "Honey, I can't," I whispered.

"A cold, refreshing lemon-lime soda will help that tummy," she stated in a patronizing tone. She was going to make such a great mom someday.

The size of the drink she bought me was frankly unwarranted, outrageous even, but I dutifully sipped on it. I had to admit that it was helping.

"Hey guys!"

I froze with my mouth on the straw. _Mat_. I'd know that wonderful voice anywhere.

I slowly turned to see Carmensita hug Amanda, the younger girl really looking up to her. Mat smiled at me, and there was a hint of something smug about it, and…

His hair was down. He usually wore the dreads around his face pulled back, but they were loose, framing that sweet face. He was dressed a little nicer than usual, as was Carmensita, and both had ride bracelets.

"Oh, um." I coughed into my hand. "Hello," I said lamely. So lamely. He was so...beautiful. Handsome. I didn't understand how a man like him was still single. He was so talented, and kind, and--

"You feeling all right?" he asked with concern, though there was a smile playing around his lips. "You look tired."

"Just a, uh...stomach bug," I lied.

"That's too bad, man, I'm sorry." He paused then added, "I was afraid those cats had kept you up last night."

I frowned in confusion. "Cats?"

"Yeah, about 3 in the morning I heard some cats wailing out in the street. I was about to go out and throw something at them but--" He burst into laughter as my expression soured.

"It was Robert's fault," I quickly stated. "He led me astray." I grimaced. "I'm not like that."

Amanda interjected, "Keg Stand Craig might beg to differ."

Mat laughed again and gently patted me on the shoulders. "All right, all right," he said with sympathy. "We've all been there."

My eyebrows shot up. "Really?" I said in disbelief.

"Well, not with Robert, and not anytime recently, but yeah." I rubbed the bridge of my nose, my eyes closed. Mat said, "I'm…uh...surprised you're not with Hugo."

I opened my eyes and stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I saw him and Ernest a few minutes ago when we first came in. I assumed you guys came together, or… met up here or something."

"Oh!" I shook my head, and immediately regretted it when my stomach protested. "No, he has Ernest for the weekend and wanted to be the Fun Dad for once. They're doing their own thing."

"Ah. Got it."

"Ernest and I don't particularly get along."

Mat rolled his eyes and muttered, "No one gets along with Ernest. The kid's a punk." His eyes crinkled as he looked perplexed. "Saw him mowing Hugo's lawn earlier today. Not sure what that cost him. Hugo, I mean."

"He says the kid offered." I shrugged. "It's one of life's mysteries."

"There you are!"

I blinked in shock as a pretty woman in her late 30s hurried up to Mat and put her arm through his. She had a boy of maybe 11 in tow, but I barely noticed him. Pretty. Woman. Holding onto Mat. Mat's hair down. Nicer clothes.

 _Date_. Mat...was on a date?

It was so...weird. Like time suddenly slowed down to the consistency of taffy, the sounds of the carnival growing distant. She was beautiful, really beautiful, with hazel eyes and light brown skin and a head of perfect spiral curls. She clung to Mat like she'd known him forever and he seemed comfortable with her as well. My eyes kept going from her lovely face to her equally lovely, manicured hand on Mat's arm.

I… Why didn't Mat tell me he had a girlfriend? How long had they been together? It was nice, that he had someone, of course I'd want that for him, but… How had I misunderstood things so completely? He'd talked like he was alone. I didn't want him to be, but...

She smiled and took her hand away from him to extend it to me, and I stared at it for a moment before taking it. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not feeling well and didn't catch your name," I mumbled. Mat had said something, but it had gotten lost in a haze of white noise. He was looking at me with an expression of almost...hurt. I shook the woman's hand. It was a nice hand. Soft, but she had a good, confident shake. "I'm Mitchell. Mat's next door neighbor."

"Ahh, so you're Mitchell! Gabriela," she stated. "But you can call me Gabby. Pleased to meet you." She put her arm around the boy. "This is my son Cruze."

I shook the boy's hand. He was an adorable kid, of course. "Pleased to meet you. I, um…" I took a drink of soda, my mouth feeling dry. I could tell I was flushed, and making a fool of myself. I was willing to get on a ride at that moment if it would whisk me away from all this. Gabriela, or Gabby rather, introduced herself and her son to Amanda. Now that I thought about it, there had been an extra car in Mat's driveway since last night. I hadn't paid much attention; he did have other friends after all. I said to the boy, "Is this your first time here?"

He shook his head and said, "No, we came two years ago when we visited Uncle Mat and Carmen. The rides are way better this time, though!"

"Oh. That's...good?" Uncle Mat? My eyes went to him. He had his lips pursed and was looking away, still frowning. Good heavens, this was awkward. I asked Gabriela, "Do you, um, live around here?"

She seemed unaware of the tension and replied, "Oh no, we live up in Boston. We're just down for the weekend." She rolled her eyes and added, "This would have been a lot more fun if my husband could have come, but we had a plumber coming to fix a leak under our laundry sink."

Husband? I was so, so confused. People had all kinds of arrangements of course, and I wasn't one to judge as long as the kids were happy and cared for, but... "Oh. Well. Yes, those things… um, they're important."

"So he says. And I was getting tired of having a bucket under there," she admitted. She smiled more brightly. "I'm so glad that I got the chance to meet you, Mitchell. Mat told us all about you. I loved the little Coffee Spoon drawing! What a clever idea!"

"Oh, um, thank you." My eyes went to Mat, and his ears were touched with red now, and he was still stubbornly refusing to make eye contact. "I was, um, inspired. By the wonderful coffee."

"It is wonderful, isn't it? I can't stop wishing that my sister had lived long enough to see her dream come true, but I know that she was watching from above and still does, God bless her."

Sister. Oh...shit.

This was Rosa's sister. Not Mat's date. Mat's _sister-in-law_. His married sister-in-law.

"Y-yes," I whispered. "Rosa, yes. Your sister. I'd… Sorry. I'm sorry." I cleared my throat and took another drink, my stomach tied into knots. Idiot. What an idiot! Of course this was Rosa's sister. The resemblance wasn't terribly strong, but it was there now that I knew to look for it.

"It was a long time ago, long enough to remember the happy things." She put her arm through Mat's again. "It was so good to meet you. Maybe we'll run into each other again in the future?"

"That would be quite nice, thank you."

Gabriela led him away, saying something to Amanda, as did Carmensita, but not before Mat glanced at me briefly with a glum expression. I wonder if he understood the mistake I'd made. Even if he had, why would he care? He had the right to date anyone he wanted. I'd gotten the feeling from our talks that he hadn't dated since Rosa died, but maybe I had been the one inferring that. Wishful thinking.

And why should it be wishful? It wasn't as if I wanted him to be alone. It wasn't as if I was ever going to date Mat. We were neighbors, and he didn't like men, or just...wasn't into me. And why would he be? He knew I was gay, I mean, it was hardly any kind of secret, any more than it was with Hugo. If he was interested in me at all he would've let on by now, but he hadn't, and so he wasn't. I knew not everyone was as bold as Alex, but I hadn't gotten any sign at all. Not that I'd given any either, other than my occasional awkwardness around him, and that could be pinned down to just...general awkwardness.

If he had given signs though… I didn't know what I would do if I thought Mat felt anything towards me in return. I honestly didn't. He was always so kind, so supportive, when I let him be, which I tried not to, but there had never been any sign that he was attracted to me. And it wasn't as if I never noticed people checking me out. Regardless of my self-esteem issues, I knew I was good-looking, in a rather bland way. Everything about me was bland, but some people liked that. Maybe? Maybe someone out there liked that? Alex had. If Alex had loved me so much, surely someone else could.

"You okay, Dad?" Amanda murmured.

"I'm just not feeling all that great, honey." It wasn't a lie. "I just...I must have missed the first part. Where Mat said she was Rosa's sister."

"Yeah, you were really zoned out there for a minute," she said with concern. She put her hand on my forehead. "You do feel a little clammy. Maybe we should go home."

I pulled myself together. "No, I'll be all right." This was Amanda's last fair at home. I had to be all right. For her.

* * *

I was not all right. I was not all right even a little.

The Ferris wheel car swayed and I groaned and sank to my knees to put my head on the cold metal seat, trying not to think about how many strangers' asses had been there tonight alone. I was going to hurl. I was going to hurl all over Brian, and since we were near the top of the wheel, I would end up hurling all over everyone below as well. I would only be hurling sour soda, but that wasn't much comfort.

"You really are sick," Brian muttered.

"Fucking Robert," I whispered weakly. Never again.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that?"

All I could do was groan in response.

Brian offered, "Maybe you should try to eat something? All you've had all night is that soda."

"No thank you."

He dug in one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts. How did they have so many pockets? Maybe they were aftermarket pockets. Maybe he'd taken regular cargo shorts and made them oh-so-much better by adding more pockets. Because that was what Brian Harding did.

"Want some jerky?"

"No. Thank you."

"Fruit leather? I've got cherry and--"

"Christ, I don't want any fruit leather!"

"Jeez, fine," Brian sighed.

I heard the crinkle of a wrapper. I kept my head on the cool metal of the bench and tried to hold as still as possible. Brian didn't move much either, thankfully, but I heard him dig around again then the sound of a page turning then the scratch of something on paper. I lifted my head, my curiosity overcoming my nausea.

Brian had a tiny book of crossword puzzles. He was doing them with...a pen.

"Oh, of course," I said with a laugh. "Of course you do crosswords with a pen." I laid my head back down. He must've seen me doing word jumbles on my phone. What in the hell was this guy's problem? I'd tolerated his competitiveness just fine so far, but I had no tolerance left in me.

"What did I do?" Brian's tone was plaintive, a touch angry, but more hurt than anything. I grunted. "Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?"

I lifted my head. "Hate you?" I was so confused. I'd never hated anyone. Well, not for a long time, anyway. "I don't hate you."

"Could've fooled me." He was scowling, the little crossword book clenched in one big hand.

"Well...well why are you always trying to prove you're better than me?" If he wanted to air this out now, then by all means, we were going to air it out. I felt shitty enough that my usual manners and need to avoid conflict were shot to hell.

Brian gasped, his freckled cheeks flushing. "I am not!"

"Everything I do, you have to do one better. Or more. Everything's a competition with you."

Appalled, he protested, "You're a fine one to talk! You're the one who's always one-upping me!"

"Only because you started it! You're always going on about your super smart kid, and your amazing handyman skills, and your fishing skills, and your perfect landscaping, and your perfect grillmanship, and your...your perfectly awesome everything. It drives me nuts!"

Brian's jaw dropped, and once I realized what I'd said I put my hand over my mouth. Or maybe I was just going to puke.

I felt my stomach lurch, and in one swift motion Brian grabbed my near empty 64-oz drink container, pulled off the lid, then shoved it in front of me.

I hurled.

Brian's timing had been perfect. He even helped me hold the cup. What a trooper. There wasn't much in my stomach, so the cup wasn't in danger of overflowing, every bit of vomit neatly contained.

He extracted a tissue packet from one of his many pockets and pulled out one for me. "I'm so sorry," I choked, wiping my mouth. "Thank you."

"No problem. Glad I could help." His tone was trying for friendly but sounded strained. He leaned back in the car and sighed. "I was just...trying to impress you, you know."

"W-what?"

"With the...thing. The competing thing." I gave him a blank stare. He was blushing. "It's just… you seemed like such a cool guy--"

I barked out a laugh of disbelief. "You're messing with me. You have to be."

"Not at all. You're an artist, and your daughter is so popular and confident, and...and I don't think I'm better than you. The whole competition thing, I thought it was just in good fun, but it kept getting worse and worse and then lately I was sure that you must… I don't know. Not like me, and I couldn't figure out what I did wrong." He winced and admitted, "Okay, maybe once in a while I really wanted to beat you at something. But not all the time."

"But you do beat me at everything."

"Not trivia."

"That's mostly Hugo's doing."

"Yeah, but he didn't start winning all the time until you guys formed Havarti Like It's 1999."

"You can just call it Team Havarti."

"Nah, the full name is too good to not say it."

I snorted a laugh. "Well...the name was my idea."

"See! I told you!"

I sighed and leaned my head on my hand, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry. I feel like such an ass. I totally misunderstood what was going on."

"I guess I did too." He lifted a big hand to slap me on the shoulder but quickly drew it back when the Ferris wheel shook then started to move.

"Oh no," I peeped, squeezing my eyes shut. I felt Brian helpfully put his hand on the cup to direct it in front of my face. "Thanks," I whispered.

"No worries."

As the wheel slowly began making its way around we stayed silent for a bit, then I muttered, "I shouldn't have projected all my insecurities onto you." God knew I had plenty to project.

"Hey, not a big deal," he said charitably.

"I'm not cool. At all. I'm awkward and a total dork."

"Oh, I don't think so. If you were, I don't think Robert would've hung out with you." He paused, his hazel eyes sparkling. "Or sung that duet with you."

"My god, does the entire cul-de-sac know?" I whined.

Brian laughed loudly. "How couldn't we know? You guys were singing 'Wonderwall' at the top of your lungs at 3am."

Wonderwall. Oh shit. No. No no no. I mean, I really liked Wonderwall. It was a good song. But what kind of place had we been in mentally this morning to start belting that out in the middle of our street?

"You have a nice singing voice," Brian offered. I laughed and buried my face in my arm, and he laughed too. "I can't sing, you know."

"Yeah, well you can do just about everything else," I muttered, though without any hard feelings. "You're good at so many things, and I'm...not."

"You're a great dad. You're always nice to everyone."

"I wasn't very nice to you."

"Sure you were, just...a bit edgy. I totally get it, and we're good." He paused. "Right?"

I lifted my head and smiled blearily at him. "Absolutely."

He smiled back. He had such a wholesome face. "You're a good artist. I saw the Coffee Spoon at Mat's shop. He's showed it to everybody."

"I didn't make it _for_ him," I blurted. I then realized what I said. Brian lifted one red eyebrow. "I mean...I gave it to him because he liked it. I'm glad he liked it." I knew he liked it. It graced the wall of his shop near the register. He'd had it professionally framed. I felt a twinge of pride every time I saw it.

The rest of the evening was a big improvement over the last couple hours. That last episode of throwing up seemed to go a long way towards curing what ailed me. I was suspicious that Amanda and Daisy had somehow conspired to get us stuck in the Ferris wheel together, had perhaps even orchestrated the entire evening, but it was hard to resent that. Brian was a good guy, and with the air cleared between us things were so much more relaxed.

The girls were exhausted by time the fair was getting ready to close, and I gave Amanda my keys so that she could drive them back. Brian wanted to watch the fireworks, and so did I, and I wanted to nurture our newfound camaraderie.

We found a spot on the grass and settled in, amongst families on blankets. Alex and I had usually taken Amanda up to Boston for the holiday fireworks show, always renting the same room with a view at the Marriott, at least when he wasn't traveling. He had been out of town the 4th of July before he died, so we'd missed it, and after...it just wasn't the same without him. I'd asked Amanda last year if she wanted to make reservations for this year, and she had just shaken her head. I was kind of glad of that. Maple Bay had a nice little 4th of July show over the bay, a lot like this one, but she hadn't seemed interested in going, so I hadn't pushed the issue.

On our way back to his truck, I ventured, "Say, I was kind of...hoping you could help me with something." It didn't hurt to extend another olive branch.

"Glad to."

"You know I'm hosting a graduation party for Amanda." He nodded; of course he knew, since everyone was invited. "I was poking around behind the cherry tree in my backyard and hit concrete. Amanda and I started digging it out, and I think it's a pond."

Brian brightened. "Hey, no kidding!"

"Do you know a pond guy?"

"I totally do. I'll give you her number when we get back."

"Excellent, thank you."

"Have you seen Damien's backyard?"

"I have. It's amazing."

We talked the whole way back, and though we edged towards the old behaviors a few times we caught ourselves and reined it in. This was nice. Brian was such a likable guy when he wasn't trying to impress me, when he was just being himself. He offered to come over in the morning and take a look at the backyard and the aforementioned pond, even if that wasn't his area of expertise.

What a great guy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of previous chapter.  
> Warning for body image issues.

Daisy ended up spending the night, which was cute. I could tell she was thrilled by the invitation from an older girl whom she really looked up to. When Brian showed up the next morning dressed for yard work with a variety of digging implements I wanted to groan, while at the same time being so touched I wanted to cry. He wanted to help me out, was offering simply as a neighbor and a friend, and I thought the world of him for it.

Three hours later we were both hot, sweaty, and starving, but we stood shirtless and filthy with beers in our hands gazing upon our work with pride. It was indeed a pond, much larger than I had imagined it would be. I hadn't ever intended to have a pond, but apparently I had one, and it looked to be in one piece, no obvious cracks or anything. Wow.

"Not the best place for it," Brian stated, "not with the tree right there, but it looks to be in good shape from what I can tell." He raised his beer to me. "Cheers! You've got a pond!" We clinked cans.

"I'm not into taking care of fish, but some water plants might be nice."

"That'd look real nice. Maybe string up some lights in the tree? Put in a little bench underneath?"

"Ooh, yes, I'd like that."

"There was an elderly lady who lived here, when we first moved into the neighborhood. I think her husband had just died. This must have been theirs. Then she passed away and it was a string of renters."

"Ah. That explains things."

He beamed at me and clapped me on the shoulder. "It's nice bringing back stuff like that. It's part of why I do what I do. I like fixing stuff up. Making it nice again. Making it what it used to be."

"I can see why. It seems very rewarding." I turned around and called into the house, "Panda, come out and see!"

It took the girls a minute, but they came out. Daisy was wearing winged eyeliner that she had clearly tried to do herself. It was so damned cute. They made the appropriate tribute to our efforts, nodding and oohing, then promptly retreated back to whence they came.

"I really appreciate your help," I said to Brian with all sincerity. "I think if I'd tried to finish this myself I would've cried."

"Yeah, this was not a one person job by any means," he said in a tone of agreement. "Glad to help, though. That's what friends and neighbors are for."

"Well I owe you. Next time you need any advertising for your business, hit me up and it's on the house."

"Wow, thanks! I just might do that." He pointed at the cherry tree. "I see a few spots that could use trimming, if you've got some loppers and a stepladder."

"I do. I'll be right back."

I headed around the side of the house through the open gate to the garage. I had invested in a variety of yard implements along with an electric mower right after we moved in. Surprisingly enough Brian had never made fun of the electric mower. I didn't have a lot of grass, and it was environmentally friendly. I had nearly run over the cord multiple times, but it was more than worth it not to have to deal with gas or smell the fumes.

I noticed Mat's relatives were packing up their car, and I scooted quickly back around the house into the backyard before I was seen. The last thing I wanted was for Mat to see my pale, flabby midsection. I wasn't as… stocky? As Brian, not by a long shot, but I was self-conscious about my body from my chubby teens and twenties. I was comfortable with Brian, and Craig had seen me at my worst, but there was no way I was going to let anyone else see me like this, let alone Mat.

I handed over the loppers to Brian and he expertly went about trimming out water sprouts and dead wood. The man was just so damn competent and went about everything he did with complete confidence. What must that be like? He had an utter lack of self-consciousness about his looks too. Not that there was anything wrong with them, in fact they were quite nice. His ruddy skin had an appealing dusting of freckles that was especially heavy across his shoulders and upper back, and he had a veritable pelt of bright orange body hair. He seemed quite cuddly, actually. Or he would if we both didn't look like we'd been wrestling greased pigs in a muddy farmyard.

"Hey neighbors!"

Oh shit!

"Hey Mat!" Brian called from up inside the crown of the tree. "Take a look at this beauty we just unearthed."

"Nice!" he said with approval as he came up next to me. "I didn't know there was a pond back here!"

I could feel a hot blush spreading down my neck to my chest. Maybe he'd think I was just flushed from working in the yard. I stank, and I had mud on my face I was sure. I should've washed off with the hose. I could hear Carmensita in the house. I was sure Amanda was enjoying being the den mother for a bit. I, on the other hand, was very much not enjoying myself right now. I didn't even have the handle of a shovel to hide behind, not that a stave of wood provided much cover. I felt…naked.

Well I was. Half-naked, anyway.

Mat and Brian bantered back and forth while I stayed still and quiet, like a mouse trying to avoid notice. If I didn't talk or move no one would look at me. My shirt was nearby, tantalizingly close, but if I made a move for it I'd only draw attention to myself.

"So what are you going to put in it?"

I started as I realized Mat was talking to me, and I glanced sideways to see that he had his eyes on the pond, not me. Thank god. He looked like he might be blushing as well, but it was hard to tell.

"Uhh," I said sagely.

"Probably too shallow for fish," Brian stated with authority as he came down the ladder. "You've got to have some depth for the fish to hide in from raccoons, and winter over in. Plants'll probably do all right though. I've got a call in to a buddy of mine who does ponds. She's coming on Tuesday to take a look at it."

I mumbled, "Yes, plants. Um, excuse me."

I fled into the house and made a beeline for the bathroom. Christ on a cracker, I did have mud splattered on my face. How wonderfully attractive. I was absolutely filthy. I got out a washcloth and wiped off as best I could then washed my face and pits, slapped on fresh deodorant, then got an old tee shirt out of my room to put on. There. Much better.

I got three bottles of water and returned outside to see Mat and Brian standing close to each other and talking in lowered voices. They were talking about me. I knew they were.

They turned at my approach and Brian eyed the water gratefully, while Mat's eyes narrowed a fraction as he took in what I was wearing, or maybe it was my imagination. He murmured his thanks as he took the water.

Mat stated, "I was thinking, if you don't mind...I could do the music."

"Um...music," I said in confusion.

"For Amanda's party."

"Oh! Yes! Right!" Maybe that was what they'd been talking about, and not me. I hoped to god it wasn't me. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Wouldn't have offered if I did."

"Right," I mumbled. Of course. Idiot!

Brian hooked his thumb towards the house and asked, "Mind if I use the facilities?"

 _Damn straight I mind!_ "Please help yourself," I managed to say, without much croaking. Goddamn Brian and his bladder, abandoning me in my time of need.

Once Brian was gone, Mat looked around the yard and said, "It's really shaping up back here."

"Thank you. It'll take a few years to get things the way I want. Especially if any more surprises pop up like the pond." I laughed a bit. "We felt like archaeologists." I sang a few measures of the Indiana Jones theme song and he chuckled.

"I think you're pretty safe. Can't imagine anything else like this hiding back here." He looked up at the tree. "I've watched this tree bloom every April for the last eleven years, but I never had a clue there was a pond underneath it."

"The tree was one of the reasons I bought the house."

"Yeah, pretty, isn't it? It was just finishing blooming when you moved in." He froze for a few seconds, eyes going slightly wide, then he quickly guzzled several mouthfuls of water. "So the uh, music's okay then?" he asked, a touch of squeak in his voice.

What on earth was going on with him? "I...yes. I appreciate the offer. My daughter has let me know more than once how boring my taste in music is. And everything else. If you don't step in she'll be treated to 80s pop hits, 70s classic rock, and 90s grunge." I wasn't entirely serious; it wasn't as if I didn't keep up with newer music. I had music streaming accounts and tried to listen to a wide variety of new artists in the styles I liked. It was rare that I didn't have music going in the house during the day. But my musical taste wasn't anywhere near as cool as Mat's.

"Nothing wrong with any of those." His thumb twitched on the bottle. "You know she's just teasing you, right?" When I didn't answer he looked at me, concerned. "Right?"

I stared at him for a moment, my lips parted. I couldn't imagine what he was getting at. "...Yes? I mean, of course I do."

"There's nothing wrong with your taste in music, or anything else." Mat frowned, worry in his dark eyes. Such sweet eyes.

Oh lord. My running into the house. Surely he wasn't referring to my self-consciousness about my body. I hoped to god he wasn't. It was easy for someone hot to talk about being happy with one's looks, and Mat was extremely hot.

"I…" There was a tickle in my throat, and I took a drink as I looked away. Thirsty.

Brian blessedly came back out just then, and I heard Mat let out a quiet sound of frustration through his nose. Our neighbor was comfortable with himself, as he should be. I had been comfortable with Alex, but I never really had been just on my own. It wasn't as if I didn't know what I had to do to lose weight. I just didn't feel like doing it. I loved carbs too much.

God, I needed to get off my ass and join the gym. I'd never be slim, but I needed to get some exercise and start looking after my health again. If nothing else, I could get out walking the neighborhood. It wasn't as if I didn't have plenty of time on my hands. When I had a job it sometimes took long hours if I was on a tight deadline, but even then I could always take an hour out of my day to exercise. Craig had offered to get me a trial pass at the gym to try it out, and at least there I would have a variety of equipment to work out on so I didn't get bored.

I knew all that, but doing it was so hard. My house was so cozy and hard to leave.

"Hey." Brian's hand came down on my shoulder. "I'm going to take off," he said. "Is it okay if Daisy stays another half hour? The girls sound like they're having fun, and...I hate to disturb her."

"Not a problem," I said with a nod. It wasn't easy for Daisy to make friends, and Brian knew that, even if he wouldn't admit the reasons why. It was good of Amanda to bridge the gap between Daisy and Carmensita. "Thank you again for all your help."

"Any time."

I helped him gather up his tools, and my own, and Mat pitched in to help, which sped things along. He and Brian chatted amiably while I stayed silent, though as he was leaving I offered to buy us all pizza for lunch if he wanted to come back. He said he had to get some chores done, and Daisy had homework, but he'd take a rain check.

I was suddenly standing alone in the driveway with Mat. He didn't say anything, but he wasn't leaving either. "I um…" I began. Why was this so hard? It seemed like it was only getting harder, too. The more time I spent around Mat the more I liked him. The more I...wanted him, strange as that still felt to me. I'd only ever really wanted Alex. I'd only ever cared for Alex. "Would you like to stay for pizza?"

Mat seemed to consider that. While he did, I saw Hugo's front door open. Ernest came out with their dog on a leash, with Hugo close behind. He had a second leash clipped to the dog's harness. It was no surprise it took both of them to walk her. This was the first time I had seen them do so however in the week that they'd had her. Hugo saw us and waved and we waved back, while Ernest sunk deeper into his hoodie at the sight of me.

 _Yeah, just keep on walking, kid_.

"Aw hey, that's nice," Mat said in a touched voice. "You and Damien had quite the adventure chasing her around."

"Yes, it was...interesting?" It had been more than that. I really treasured that day. Damien had had some incredibly moving and wise things to say about death and loss that had really stuck with me. I'd nearly started bawling in front of him, and he'd known it too. We'd sat close to each other watching the harbor after that, and it had been such a comfort to me.

"Amazing how you keep getting dragged into these things." I made a sound of embarrassment and Mat broke into laughter. "Seriously dude, you're lucky you didn't end up in jail last night."

I rounded on him and whispered, "What did you hear?" Surely he hadn't heard about my dust-up with Ernest?

"You two singing 'Wonderwall', that's what I heard. That's what we all heard." He made a face that managed to combine deep disappointment and dismay. "'Wonderwall', Mitchell? Come on, man."

"I like 'Wonderwall'," I said in a small voice. "You just told me there's nothing wrong with my taste in music." I saw him smirking a bit then I drawled, "I see. Very funny."

He laughed then turned his eyes back to the Vegas, who were just turning the corner. "I didn't think Hugo would ever agree to a dog, especially one like that." Mat stated, changing the subject. "Big. Slobbery." He shuddered.

I grimaced. "Yeah, me neither. He keeps such a tidy house." I had nightmares about Duchess Cordelia getting into his wrestling room and chewing up his collection. She could open doors. Maybe I should text him and remind him about her very particular set of skills. "Ernest fell in love with her though and begged Hugo to keep her. Called him Dad and everything."

"Pulled out all the stops, huh?"

"And then some."

"Not a dog person myself. Never have been."

"Me neither. I've thought about getting a cat or two once Amanda goes off to school. We had one, Alex and I, before Amanda came along, but he passed when she was ten and we just never… got around to getting another one. It would be… I could use the company, I suppose," I finished in a halting voice. Mat was silent and I looked at him to see him watching me with that same sad expression he'd gotten so often lately. I did _not_ want his pity. I didn't think it was pity, sympathy rather, or understanding, but there were so many other looks I'd rather have turned on me than that one.

"Yeah, I love cats," he murmured.

Of course he did. Could he be any more perfect? I smiled and offered, "If I get a pair you can have visitation rights, just as I do for _Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon_."

Mat laughed. "Right on."

I nodded with my head towards the house. "Give me ten or fifteen minutes to get cleaned up and we'll figure out the pizza?" He never had said whether he wanted to stay or not.

"Sounds good." He smiled at me again then headed next door.

I hurried inside and grabbed clean clothes and got straight into the shower. I didn't bother shaving, and didn't need to fix my hair. I tried not to agonize over what to wear. It didn't matter. This was a neighborly pizza dinner, nothing more.

Cleaned up, I powered up my laptop on the coffee table to look at delivery options while I waited for Mat to show up.

I sat bolt upright on the couch. Mat. Was coming. To my house. _Inside_ my house. He'd never been inside my house before. Shit.

I rolled off the couch like I was dodging bullets then sprang to my feet. The house was a _mess_ . I looked around at the dirty plates on the table next to the laptop, the basket of clean but unfolded laundry sitting nearby with a pair of _my least attractive hole-ridden plaid boxers_ on top. There was a pile of shoes by the front door. That wasn't even getting into how disgusting the bathroom was, with dirty clothes on the floor and questionable hairs everywhere.

Brian had gone into the bathroom while it looked like that.

My eyelids fluttered as I felt my soul threaten to leave my body, and not in a good way.

Bathroom first. That was the most urgent.

I grabbed the clean clothes basket and hustled it into my room, knocking on Amanda's door on the way back. She stuck her head out and I whispered urgently, "Mat's coming over for pizza. Code Red. Living room." Her eyes widened and she said something to the girls before she launched out of her room and into action. That was my girl.

I quickly scrubbed the toilet then grabbed the cleaning wipes and went over it, then used another to wipe down the counter and scrub out the sink. I threw the dirty clothes into the tub and yanked the curtain shut to hide them then used the same wipe to clean up the floor. I used the dirty hand towel to clean the mirror and threw that into the tub as well then got out a clean hand towel and set it out. Good enough.

I washed my hands then saw to the kitchen while the living room fell into order under my daughter's capable hands. There weren't enough clean plates for company, but we had paper plates aplenty. Daisy and Amanda and I had prepared a wonderfully elaborate breakfast dinner the previous night and I had intended to clean up this morning, but Brian's early arrival had stopped that from happening. Worth it though, to have that pond dug out and an even better rapport with Brian.

I put things into the dishwasher unrinsed. We would just have to take them out later and scrub off the crust then put them back.

There was a knock on the screen door. I was sweating. I _hated_ sweating right after I took a shower.

I willed my pulse to slow down, to no avail, and came out of the kitchen just as Amanda was letting in Mat. She had done good work in here. Our secret was safe, at least as long as Daisy and Carmensita didn't talk. I wondered how much their silence was worth. I had given both girls sanctuary in my home. Surely I held some small amount of their loyalty.

Mat smiled at me as he came in. He was holding his left wrist, and I noticed he was rubbing his thumb along the beaded bracelet he always wore.

I realized with a sudden twinge of shock that he was anxious. That was what he did when he was anxious, and I couldn't believe it had taken me so long to figure it out. I kept my eyes off the nervous habit to avoid making him self-conscious. Why would he be nervous, though? I was the one who was smitten, and he was in my house.

Amanda and I bumped fists discreetly as she passed to return to her room. God, I loved that child. I was going to be lost without her. I motioned to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" I offered.

"Maybe just a uh, glass of water?"

I nodded and went into the kitchen, hearing him follow. My house was tiny, less than 1000 square feet, with only two bedrooms and one bath. It was all I'd been able to afford and pay cash for it, with the proceeds from the townhouse that we'd lived in for twenty years, and I'd figured that eventually Amanda would move out on her own and I'd be able to convert the second bedroom into a guest bedroom-slash-studio. It didn't even have a dining room, just a small breakfast bar with two stools. Mat's house wasn't a whole lot bigger, though it had a more open floor plan than mine and a rarely-used loft.

"Nice place," Mat said.

"Oh, thank you. It's a bit of a mess, and I still don't have everything put quite where I want it yet. The townhouse we moved out of was a bit larger, so I still have a lot of things in the garage. I might have to make some hard choices and get rid of some things." I'd gotten rid of so much already while packing. That had been painful. I'd gotten rid of most of Alex's clothes, everything other than what Amanda had wanted for herself; none of it had fit me, since he had been shorter, and slim. I still had a lot of keepsakes, souvenirs from family vacations, and The Box. I'd begun thinking of it that way since I'd put it up on the shelf of my closet. I hadn't looked at any of the pictures in it since we moved here. I had pictures of Amanda up, and Amanda and me, but none of Alex, though she had a number of them in her room. I tried not to look at those.

Mat replied with sympathy, "Yeah, that's never easy."

I handed Mat his water then pulled out my phone. "Sorry, I just need to text Hugo real quick," I murmured.

"No worries dude," he said. "I get it."

Get it? What did he get? That was...odd, but I didn't want to make things awkward by asking what he meant.

_ME: I have grave concerns about the safety of The Collection. That dog can open doors, remember?_

_HUGO: The Collection is safeguarded by a padlocked industrial-strength latch._

_HUGO: Ernest helped me install it, after I told him that if Duchess so much as looked at any of it she was going back to the shelter. He was more than happy to assist._

_HUGO: This was before the Great Lawnmowing Incident of Yesterday, mind you. I'm afraid he may have hit his head. I'm not sure what's gotten into him._

I chuckled. I could hear his voice so perfectly right then.

_ME: Gifthorses, etc., etc._

_HUGO: I try. Oh my god, do I try._

I laughed again and turned off my phone and set it on the counter.

"All good?" Mat asked.

"I...yes?" I replied, sounding almost as confused as I felt. I went to the refrigerator and got out some cut-up vegetables and hummus.

"Need any help?"

"Oh no, this is all ready to go. I tried giving this to the girls last night and you'd think I was trying to poison them." I pounded my hands on the counter and chanted, "More bacon! More bacon!"

He nodded with a grave expression. "Gotta give the people what they want."

I let him dig into the healthy stuff while I fetched the laptop and brought it to the counter. I took a seat at the breakfast bar and brought up the pizzeria's website. Mat came around and I patted the stool next to me. "Amanda will eat anything, and I nearly will," I stated. "My only requirement is no pineapple. Robert forced that on me the other night and it's yet another part of that entire experience that I'd rather forget."

"You won't get any pushback from me. Pineapple on pizza is a goddamn abomination. It belongs in pina coladas, and that's about it."

Why was he so perfect?

We figured out a couple medium pizzas and I got them ordered. I saw Mat looking around the house and it embarrassed me that I hadn't had him over before now. I'd only been inside his place once, but I should have returned the favor sooner than this.

"I need to go send Daisy home," I said as I got up. "The girls are back here." He nodded and followed. I thought he might, and was glad that my bedroom door was closed. I pointed out the bathroom as we passed and he made a sound of acknowledgment.

I knocked on Amanda's door, as I always did, and when she said we could come in I found the girls clustered around her laptop looking at my online photo albums, the ones that were public. She was showing them...us. Family photos. Photos of Alex. Videos. Well of course the girls were curious about the person who was missing from our household, whose pictures weren't up in our house. I had thousands of photos backed up online, that I could look at whenever I wanted on my phone. I rarely wanted, though I knew I was going to have to soon, to help Amanda put together the memory video for her graduation party. I wasn't really sure how I was going to handle that.

"Um, Daisy," I murmured, pulling my eyes away from the picture. Alex and I had our arms around each other with Amanda squeezed between. She must have been 14 then. That was the summer trip we had taken to the Outer Banks. We were standing on the beach with the ocean in the background, all three of us in our swimsuits, Amanda and Alex beautifully brown from the August sun and me sunburnt but happy.

"Oh, okay," the girl sighed. "Bye guys." The other two girls bid her farewell and I walked her out. She hugged me at the doorway before leaving. What a sweet kid. All she really needed was a little encouragement. Her dad was so loud and outgoing that it probably didn't occur to him that his daughter was shy and awkward.

I turned around expecting Mat to be there. He wasn't.

Going back to the bedrooms, I saw him sitting in the spot Daisy had vacated. Amanda was showing him and Carmensita pictures from the trip we had taken to Disney World when she was 11. All three of us were wearing mouse ears, and we were standing in front of each other, stacked by height: me in the back holding Alex, and Amanda in front of him.

I turned back around and left the room.

I stood in the hall by the bathroom, at a loss as to what to do with myself. Amanda had every right to show those pictures to whomever she wanted. I could hear her chatting happily, able to take pleasure in the memories. Why couldn't I do that yet?

A lump rose in my throat and I went into the bathroom to gather up the dirty clothes while I had the chance. I carried them past the kitchen into the laundry/mud room and sorted them into their proper hampers. Maybe I should start a load while I was out here. It wasn't as if I had anything else to do.

I started throwing in the whites. It was nice that Mat was sitting and listening to Amanda. It was good he was supportive. Support was good. I wondered if I hadn't been done enough in that regard. I always supported her, in everything she did, but she knew I found the subject of Alex painful to talk about. What if I had caused her some kind of harm by not being stronger for her? What if… what if she had been hiding that she wanted to talk about him, knowing I had a hard time with it still? What if--

"Hey." Mat's sigh broke me out of my thoughts.

"I, um...is the pizza here?" I honestly wasn't sure how long I'd been standing there with a dirty tee shirt clenched in my hands, staring at the wall. I threw it in the washing machine, feeling my face growing warm, and continued chucking the other things in after it.

"We only ordered it maybe ten minutes ago," he said with concern.

"Oh, I guess...that sounds about right." God, what did he want from me, anyway? Why was he out here? I tossed the clothes in with more force than was necessary, feeling like a petulant child. He wanted to be a friend, that was what he wanted, and I found it too difficult to allow because of how I felt about him. Any kind of intimacy, even if it was platonic, was too much to bear and only made the feelings worse. Even discounting that it was him, I had always been good at being there for other people, but letting them be there for me was something I didn't know how to manage with any grace.

Maybe I should try to talk to Damien about this. He had such a good head on his shoulders. I didn't know what else to do, but it was clear I had to talk to someone about it, and I kept balking at the idea of going back to therapy. I shouldn't have to. I wasn't going to pay $200 an hour to someone because I was squeamish about opening up to people I had started to consider friends. But how could I unleash the grief I was still carrying on new friends, without sending them running the other way? There was just so much of it. I was afraid that if I started to let out even the smallest amount that the dam would burst.

"You really haven't talked to anyone about it, have you."

I froze and stared at the washing machine. "I did," I mumbled. "I talked to Hugo, a little. And Damien."

"Also a little, I'm assuming," he said. I didn't answer. "You know, Amanda's okay," Mat stated. "It isn't going to break her to know how hard this has been for you. How hard it still is."

"It isn't her responsibility. She's my child," I stated with more vehemence than I should have. I continued throwing in the clothing, again, harder than I needed to. I resented him doing this to me. Weakening my resolve. He was doing it to be kind, though, and because he understood. He was the only one of the guys who did. Robert was so wrapped up in guilt and self-destruction that he couldn't be there at all for anyone else. He could barely cope on his own. It made me wonder about the wreck that had killed his wife. It made me wonder if he had been driving.

God, at least I didn't have _that_ to live with.

Mat moved into my line of vision to lean against the dryer, his arms folded. "I'm not saying to unload on her, or make her hold you up," he said, voice lowered. "But everything you do is for her. You're holding it all in like that because of her, and when she goes in August you're--"

I slammed the washer door shut then leaned my hands on it. I didn't want to get angry with Mat. I so did not. "I _know_ that," I muttered. I could see his right foot tapping the tiniest bit and had to wonder what doing this was costing him. That thought sucked the irritation right out of me. My shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

Mat shook his head and insisted, "You don't need to be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for. You don't need to say it nearly as often as you do."

"It's just a habit. An old habit."

"Yeah, that's…that's not okay." He sounded annoyed, for my sake, I assumed.

"Look." I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath then let it out in a rush. I could hear the girls still talking in Amanda's room, then Carmensita giggled. They were out of earshot. "I know I'm not handling this well--"

"Shit man, that's not what I'm getting at!" he said in dismay.

I held up my hand. "I know, I'm just..." He fell silent, though I could hear that his breathing was stressed. "I know I'm not going about this the right way, how about that?" Mat grunted. "I know you're trying to help. You _have_ helped. Just knowing that you went through this, but so much worse--"

"Uh-uh. No way. That isn't how this is going to go."

"Alex didn't suffer. Or so they told me. He died at the moment of impact, or right after. The drunk driver died too. Alex was just...gone. I never saw a body, never had to visit him at the hospital or see him in pain, or sick. He just never...never came home," I finished, my voice catching. God but it was hard to actually say the words out loud. I thought that maybe it was the first time I had.

Mat gaped at me. "And you think that's better? That isn't better!"

"Better for him."

He said in frustration, "Yeah, it was, but it isn't him we're talking about. I would've given _anything_ to take away what Rosa went through. Anything. I would've taken every single bit of her pain and sickness on myself, to spare her. But we had time to say goodbye. We had our families there, all the time. It was horrible, but I wouldn't have traded a single day of that time with her for anything."

I sucked in a shaky breath, my eyes filling with tears. What would that have been like? To have supportive family, to have the chance to say goodbye? "I...I can't," I whispered. "Do this. We're just having pizza. With the girls. I don't...I won't put that on them. On her."

Mat moved closer and murmured, "It doesn't harm kids to see adults getting upset for totally valid reasons."

"I want her to go off to college without worrying about me. I want her to have her own life, without me dragging her down. She should be off having fun and making new friends, without thinking about her old man sitting in a darkened room in his pajamas at two in the afternoon eating ice cream out of the carton and sobbing." I heard Mat make a sound of horror. I squeezed my eyes shut and mumbled, "I don't actually do that." Much, anyway. I hadn't for a long time, at any rate. I could feel it threatening though. Depression. It had taken me years of therapy to push it back to where it didn't dog me the way it once had. After Alex died I'd had Amanda to pour myself into, but I knew once she left that it was highly likely that I would slide back into it again. I knew that with almost utter certainty.

"I won't let you do that." I blinked at the forceful statement and looked at him, and he went still for a second then chewed on his lip. "None of us would," he amended. His ears were turning red and his thumb was rubbing his elbow while his foot did that little tap again. "I uh, it's just you, um, moved here. Into a good neighborhood. With good guys. Everyone likes you, I mean, you're a great guy, so why wouldn't they? We. I meant we. We wouldn't. Let that happen."

Mat rambled on for a bit in that vein as I stared at him in bewilderment. My tears had dried up, at least. What in the world was going on with him? Maybe he realized he had overstepped his bounds, or...something. Not that he had. I wanted more than anything to unburden myself to him, to just lay my head on his shoulder and cry, but I couldn't bear the thought of doing that to him. Or myself. He didn't know what he was dealing with here.

He finally trailed off and rubbed his arm. "Pizza should be here soon," he said in an uneven voice.

"Yes, I imagine so," I replied. "Let me just start this."

"Sure, man." He fled back into the house.

I stood there numb for a moment before going through the motions of setting up and turning on the wash. How did I get myself into this?

And it wasn't just this situation, it was everything. This neighborhood. With these guys. The sweet goth guy who was more than he seemed, the competitive contractor with the heart of gold, my child's English teacher of all people, my college buddy, the guilt-wracked brooder, the unhappily married youth pastor, and the sweet widowered musician with anxiety issues. How in the blue blazes had I ended up here? What were the odds?

And everyone had been so good to me here. Even Robert was slowly warming up, as was Mary, but everyone else had been better to me than I could have ever dreamed, and Mat...Mat was trying so hard to be supportive of the other dad here who had lost a beloved partner and was still hurting. That meant the world to me. But how did I accept what he was offering without me making a complete mess of it? If it had been Craig or Hugo or Damien acting like this with me, I would've been all right. But the one person offering the kind of comfort I craved was the one person I couldn't fully accept it from. I didn't want my crush to turn into full-blown love. It had become painfully obvious lately that I wasn't ready to be in a relationship, and Mat didn't feel the way I did, so I would only be torturing myself.

I went back into the house and saw the girls sitting on the couch browsing for a movie. Matt was sitting at the counter with his glasses off, looking at his phone. He had a dejected air about him, or maybe he was just frustrated with trying to get through to me. Seeing the slump to his shoulders made me feel horrible. He was looking at a pretty picture of the breeze blowing through tall grass, or a video rather. Or was it? The picture didn't change, the grass continuing to ripple soothingly, and I had the sneaking suspicion it was some kind of calming app.

Well that was just great. I'd driven the poor guy to open an anti-anxiety app. That made me feel just wonderful.

I left him to it and went to the girls, asking, "What looks good?"

"Something funny," Carmensita said, her tone implying it wasn't negotiable.

I really wasn't in the mood for comedy. Neither was Mat. I looked at Amanda and she was looking at Mat's back with an unreadable expression, then she turned it on me and studied me for a few seconds before smiling.

"Definitely something funny," she agreed.

I grunted and nodded. They could do what they wanted. "Let's just make sure it's age-appropriate?" I suggested.

"Hmm." She scrolled through the options. "Uh huh…" She made a thoughtful sound. I glanced at the screen and saw her sorting through 1990s Jim Carrey movies.

"Absolutely not," I said in my most Disapproving Dad voice ever. I kept the quaver of fear out of it, somehow. I wasn't in the mood to laugh. I also didn't want Mat knowing about my guiltiest of pleasures. She hovered over _Dumb and Dumber,_ and I softly hissed, "Amanda Ann, so help me god…" Mat liked 'shit with subtitles'. Classy stuff. I had a very low threshold for entertainment, especially when it came to comedy. When it came to comedy I was a 12 year old boy. I couldn't let Mat find that out.

"It's rated PG-13. Carmen's 11." I glared at her, and she raised her voice and said, "Maybe we should let Mat decide."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whimpered. I heard him swivel around on the stool, and I felt a thrill of relief as I saw Amanda's expression fall.

"Sorry kiddo," Mat said in an apologetic tone.

Oh thank god.

The girls settled on something sweet and harmless, _The Princess Bride._ Also one of my favorite movies, but one that was almost universally liked and wouldn't result in the end of mine and Mat's friendship. Mat found the choice acceptable. Win-win.

The pizza arrived and the girls brought pillows onto the floor as I closed the curtains. The old men took the couch, sparing our bones. When Mat kicked off his shoes and pulled his feet up on the couch it was all I could do to not snuggle into him. This felt so...nice. Like family. It was easy to daydream about, too easy, and a little heartbreaking. Family took many forms, I knew that as well as anyone, but...this was a nice form of it. Or it would be, if it was real. But it wasn't. It never could be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for reaction to trauma and grief

Hugo squealed.

I barely had time to absorb the sound and the fact that he could make it before he was coming around the table and yanking me to my feet and picking me up off those feet in a hug. Holy hell, the man was strong. How did an English teacher get so damn strong? The same way anyone else did, I supposed, but it was still startling that he could pick me up. I weighed over 200 pounds.

Hugo set me down and quickly looked around. The whole restaurant was staring at us, including Mat and Brian. Then Brian started clapping, and everyone else went along with it. I hadn't intended for this kind of scene to take place at all. No one even knew why they were clapping. It wasn't like we'd just gotten engaged or anything.

"I can't believe you did this," Hugo whispered. His cheeks were red, but he was still grinning from ear to ear, clutching the wrestling tickets to his chest.

"It wasn't a big deal," I answered. "It'll be fun. You just really seemed like you needed to get away, and I couldn't remember the last time I had. You'll need to find someone to watch Duchess, but…"

"I'm sure Damien would." He held the tickets out to look at them, his eyes shining. "This is going to be so much fun."

Wow. I hadn't imagined Hugo would react so strongly to the gift. It was really touching. We sat back down as I said, "You'll have to give me a crash course on wrestling."

"Absolutely." He spread the tickets on the table. "I haven't been to one of these since Ernest was born," he murmured. "I've tried so many times over the years to get him interested, but…"

"You can't really force these things," I said with regret.

"I just…had hoped." He sighed. "My dad got me into wrestling. He took me and my brother and sisters to matches all the time. Big shows, little local matches… It was our thing, that we did."

I reached over the table and patted his arm. "You and Ernest will find your thing. Maybe it's taking a little longer, but you will." It was a bit of a platitude, but he appreciated the gesture, laying his hand over mine. The dog really seemed to be helping things between them, so maybe they could build on that. Damien had said the shelter was always looking for volunteers. Ernest was more than old enough for that.

We finished up our cheese board and wine and chatted. I never would have imagined ever wanting to go away for a weekend with my child's English teacher, but Hugo had quickly become a good friend and was so easy to spend time with. School would be out in a couple weeks and he was really feeling the pressure. If I could help out with that, and help him not be so embarrassed about his hobby, then I would do what I could. It was the least I could do for a friend.

I sipped my wine and sneaked a glance over at Mat and Brian's table and saw Mat watching the two of us, as he often did, for reasons that still escaped me. He started slightly then smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Confused, I smiled back then returned to our conversation. Hugo insisted on splitting the cost of the room, and I had no problem with that. It wasn't a long drive up to Boston, but it would be late when the show ended and neither of us would want to drive back at that hour. It would be nice to be able to relax and not rush.

Hugo thumbed through the Crapper Keeper book, chuckling to himself. I said, "Sorry I didn't spring for the leatherbound edition. It was sold out." He laughed more loudly at that. It had been an impulsive buy but he seemed delighted by it as much as the tickets and the hotel reservation.

He asked me, "Is Amanda excited to have the house to herself?"

"Not really, and I find it extremely suspicious. She asked if she could have a few friends over and of course I told her that was fine, but she's playing it awfully cool."

"Too cool."

"Uh huh." She had hit a really rough patch with her best friend Emma, whichever one that was, over Noah, the boy that apparently they both liked and that Emma was now dating. It had been a relief to finally find out what the problem had been, and I'd counseled her that a guy was the last possible thing anyone should lose a friendship over. She and Emma had been best friends since Kindergarten, and soon they would be heading off to different colleges, and it would be all too easy to fall out of touch, the way my high school friends and I had, the way Craig and I had. It seemed they had worked things out, at least enough to have a sleepover. Maybe that would help work it out the rest of the way.

* * *

I stared at the music list. I was only vaguely familiar with only some these bands, but Mat had assured me that they were current and hip. He'd used the word hip. The only time I used the word hip was when mine started aching.

"These look...uhh...great?" I mumbled. I guessed? How was I supposed to know?

"Amanda thought so too, but I wanted to run it by you first," Mat said.

"No, really, I trust you. This is fine." I drew in a deep breath then let it out. "I've ah, never thrown a party on my own. I appreciate your help. And Joseph's, and everyone else's." All the neighbors had pitched in a little to help me plan Amanda's graduation party. I was trying to keep it small, my yard nowhere near the entertaining paradise that Joseph's was, though it was getting there. The pond had plants and was drawing lots of birds to the yard, and I had all the party supplies purchased and was going out with Amanda tonight to get the food and drinks.

Mat gripped my shoulder. "Hey man, that's what we're here for."

 _I just wish Alex was here_ , I nearly said, but instead murmured my thanks and picked up my coffee and took a drink. How I wished that Alex could have seen Amanda graduate from high school. Graduate from college. Get married, and have children, if that was what she wanted.

My phone dinged with Amanda's tone. I frowned as I thumbed the screen on. She should still be on her way to school. She knew texting behind the wheel was an automatic suspension of driving privileges.

PANDA: _Dad, don't freak out, but...I got in an accident_.

I stared at the words on the screen as my hands started to tremble.

Accident. There's been an accident.

 _Mr. Rivera? I'm sorry, but there's been an accident_.

"Mitchell?"

PANDA: _I'm okay, I'm totally okay, just a little shaken up, but the car…_

I felt someone take the coffee out of my hand and set it on the table. I heard my name again but it...just...didn't quite make it through the ringing in my ears.

PANDA: _Daddy, I'm really really sorry!! ;_; Why aren't you answering??!!_

I was going to pass out.

The phone was taken out of my hands and I just...sat there. I felt an arm go around my shoulders and people talking. I thought maybe I heard Amanda's voice from a distance. Someone was telling Amanda...something. Good. That was good.

"I need to go," I whispered.

"You're not going anywhere," Mat softly ordered. "Sit tight."

I did what I was told. I was good at that. I could do that. I heard him talking on my phone to Amanda. Amanda. I had to get to Amanda.

I tried to rise but Mat's grip on my shoulders pulled me back down onto the couch. He was really strong.

He talked to Amanda a bit more then kept her on as he said to me, "She's okay. The car's still drivable. She and the other driver exchanged insurance info. After she hangs up she's going to continue on to school. Everything's all right."

"Okay," I whispered.

"It was just a fender bender," he assured me. "She isn't hurt at all. Airbags didn't even go off." I nodded. He rubbed my back as he spoke softly into the phone. "Yeah. Pretty bad, yeah. Yeah, I think so. Hey, no, don't worry about that, okay? I'll take care of him. Everything's under control sweetheart, seriously. These things happen. The car can be fixed and your dad'll be fine in a little bit."

No I wouldn't. I felt my entire body starting to shake.

Mat hung up and let go of me long enough to put away my laptop and tablet in the bag, then he helped me to my feet and took me back into the kitchen, murmuring something on the way to Pablo.

It was warm back there and smelled like something baking, something sweet. Mat pushed me down onto a stool by the stainless steel counter, setting my bag nearby and placing my phone on top.

"Hey, hey," he murmured. He stood in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze, and when I didn't respond he took my face in his hands and made me look at him. "Do you want me to call Hugo?"

I blinked and shook my head as the trembling got worse. It was warm in there but...not. I was freezing. "She's okay," I whispered.

He let out a breath of relief and nodded. "Yeah, of course she is. Just a fender bender like I said. She wasn't paying attention and bumped the person in front of her at an intersection, not even going five miles an hour. Nobody was hurt. The cars are fine, just some cosmetic damage."

I folded my arms and shivered as he let go of my face. His hands had been so warm. Amanda was okay. This wasn't a repeat of what had happened to her father. The police weren't going to come to my house. I wasn't going to lose my daughter too.

I sucked in a breath then let it out in a sob as the fear drained out of me, replaced with grief over Alex and deep shame. I hadn't been there for her. I'd gone into shock and I hadn't been able to help her through this. I'd failed her. Our neighbor had to be the one to comfort her and walk her through what to do. And she knew that I'd freaked out. I'd completely let her down.

Mat squeezed my arm and at that I completely lost it. I put my hand over my mouth and hugged my middle and started crying. I had enough presence of mind to be quiet about it, at least. But I just...I couldn't believe I'd let her down so completely.

"Hey, c'mere." Mat put his arms around me and pulled my head to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I wept. "I'm really sorry."

"Nonono. You don't have to be sorry." His voice was cracking.

"I t-totally let her down."

"No you didn't. She understands. It's okay."

"No it isn't I'm a failure and I wasn't there for her and I let her down and I couldn't even…"

"Not true," he whispered. "Not even close."

"If you hadn't--"

"Well I did and that's all that matters. Just...shhh. You didn't let anyone down."

I didn't argue any further, aching with guilt. I couldn't even enjoy the feel of Mat's arms around me or his nice smell. All I could think about was my baby girl reaching out to me, needing me, and me not being there for her. The thought only made me cry harder. I hated myself so much for this.

I had no idea how long it took for it to stop, but by time it did I had a raging headache. I was a snotty mess but had managed to not get any on Mat's shirt. He let go of me enough to grab a clean towel and hand it to me, and I put it over my face and tried to get a grip on myself. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Just stop it," Mat said in a rough voice. "You can only be so strong for so long, man. You had every reason to react like you did."

"But what if you hadn't been there?"

"Come on, don't go down that road, okay? What if's are always bad news. You can't live your life like that."

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her," I moaned. "She's my whole life. She and Alex were my whole life, and he was always the strong one and...and I don't know what I'd do." It scared me to think of what I might feel driven to do if my daughter died. Christ, I thought I'd lose my mind. Mat made a sound of anguish and rubbed my back. "She went out a couple weekends ago and didn't check in like she was supposed to and didn't come home until 1am and I totally flipped out on her, and now this. I'm a horrible father." I sucked in a shuddering breath as the tears threatened again.

"Like hell you are." The whisper was choked. "Did you tell her why you flipped out?"

"Yes, but…"

Mat sighed. "You've got to start easing up on yourself, dude. You'd be pissed if you knew someone was being this hard on somebody else. It isn't fair." I lifted my head enough to blow my nose. "And you need to start giving your kid some credit. She knows you're scared of losing her, especially losing her the way you lost Alex. I still can't imagine what that was like."

Awful. It had been beyond awful, a nightmare, and I wouldn't have wished it on anyone.

Mat sighed again and patted my shoulder then let go of me. He got out a clean washcloth and ran some cold water in the sink and got it wet then brought it back to me. I put it over my eyes.

"I've tried so hard not to burden her," I croaked.

"Yeah. Well she's 18. She isn't a little girl anymore."

I huffed in misery. No, she wasn't. She was a young woman. She was graduating from high school this Friday. But she was still my kid.

"And you're _not_ a burden. On anyone. I'd love to know what the hell those people who raised you..." He trailed off and made a sound of annoyance.

"No you wouldn't," I muttered. "I spent years in therapy for it and...no, you wouldn't." I would never put that on Mat. Ever. My so-called parents had never laid a hand on me in anger, not really, but they had done plenty of damage in other ways that were harder to get over. I didn't think I would ever totally feel like I wasn't a bother, or an inconvenience. Or a burden, or had something wrong with me. It hadn't been bad when Alex was around. He'd had a way of lifting me up, making me feel loved and valued. But even then, a tiny voice in the background had whispered every so often that he shouldn't have had to go to so much effort to make me feel that way.

"Yeah, well we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one."

I sighed heavily and took the washcloth off my eyes and got up and went to the sink to get it cold again. I didn't want to look Mat in the eyes and see pity there. It was mortifying to think of what I had just done. All of it. What a wonderful specimen of competence and adulthood I must have presented. I held the cold washcloth over my eyes again, and when I felt a change in the air then a hand on my back it made me start getting angry. Mostly with myself.

"You don't have to be...embarrassed or whatever," Mat stated. I grumbled. "All the times you've seen me start freaking out--"

"You've never freaked out," I muttered. "Being a little anxious isn't freaking out. What I just did, _that_ was freaking out."

Mat said with impatience, "Man, I don't care. I hate watching you do this to yourself. Always holding onto everything so tight, beating the shit out of yourself. Don't turn into Robert, okay?"

My mouth fell open and I turned just enough to look at him.

He winced. "I uh, shouldn't have said that. You're nothing like Robert."

I let it go. I was exhausted. I just wanted to go home and go back to bed, after taking something for the headache. I would text Amanda when I got home and tell her I was sorry, make sure she was okay, and when she got home we would talk a little about why I had overreacted the way I had. I had to give her that much. She deserved to know.

I laid the washcloth on the edge of the sink and quietly said, "Thank you for helping Amanda today. And...me."

"It isn't a problem," he assured me. "You're my friend, man, you know that, right?"

I sighed silently and looked at him again, feeling drained and just...sad. "Yes, absolutely," I murmured. He smiled at me, just a tiny bit, and I could tell he was a touch anxious. I was the one who had done that to him this time. Again. "I'm grateful, I truly am," I felt compelled to say. "I would've been lost without you there." His smile broadened, bringing out The Dimples, and I felt my expression fall as I looked away, starting to choke up again. He was so sweet. I couldn't understand how a man like that was single. He should've been fending women off with a stick, the way Craig had to. I adored him so much, and all it did was make things harder. I couldn't be friends with him the way I was with any of the other guys, and that wasn't fair to him.

Mat kept smiling at me, a soft gentle reassuring thing. "It's going to okay, you know," he stated, leaning sideways to look me in the eyes. "Everything's going to be just fine, you'll see. Just a tiny fender bender. They happen all the time."

I stared at him, feeling the strangest sense of deja vu. "Alex told me that," I mumbled. Mat shook his head, not understanding. "The day we brought Amanda home. We...we got in a fender bender too, isn't that odd? As we were taking her home from the hospital. A little old lady hit us. I...freaked out then too, and Alex, he...he was so calm and said everything was going to be okay. The way you just did." Mat's expression fell, and I impulsively reached out to hug him, giving him the chance to move away, but instead his breath left him in a rush and he moved into it and held me in return.

"It will, you know," he whispered. "Be okay."

"Someday, maybe."

"No maybe about it."

I let him believe that. It was always easier to go that route.

I pulled myself together. I knew my eyes and nose were still red, but that would take time to go away, and I had sunglasses with me since it was nice out. Mat felt so good though, smelled so nice, and he gave A+ hugs, with just enough squeeze, and just a tiny bit of rocking back and forth. I could stand like this forever. Except I couldn't.

I sighed and let go of him, giving him a brief smile of thanks.

Mat stared at me with shining eyes, then he touched my shoulder and moved away, saying, "Here, take this with you."

I numbly watched as he put a few slices of some kind of sweet bread into a paper to-go sack and handed it to me. "Thank you," I murmured. He was such a good man.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" I shook my head. He rubbed my upper arm then patted it. "Make sure you talk to her, okay?"

"I'll...try."

* * *

I could see the anxiety on Amanda's face clear as day the moment she pulled into the cul-de-sac. I didn't even bother to look at the car.

I stayed put on the front walkway, unable to take my eyes off her as she winced and slowly got out of the car. "Are you--" My voice cracked. "Are you sure you aren't hurt?" What if she was moving like that because she was sore? Even if it was just a tiny fender bender, what if she had something bruised or cracked where no one could see? Internal injuries?

"I'm fine, Dad," she stated, but her voice was shaking. She wouldn't meet my eyes. She stopped at the front of the car, wringing the strap of her book bag in her hands. "I was going to get a summer job anyway," she said as she motioned to the front bumper. "I'll make sure--"

"I don't give a fuck about the car!" I yelled. I slapped my hands over my mouth. I'd sworn I wouldn't yell at her. I wasn't a yeller. But when I got scared it sometimes slipped out. "I'm sorry," I choked. _Here it comes._ I was going to cry.

I was crying.

Amanda whimpered and let her bag fall and ran to me, and I squeezed her so tight she squeaked. "I was so scared," I wept. "All I could think about was your dad, and losing you too."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she cried. "I'm sorry I scared you."

We held each other and sobbed. I loved her so much, she had no idea. She might think she did, but she didn't have a clue. I couldn't terrify her like that, letting her know she held my life in her hands. I wasn't going to crush her with that kind of knowledge. I didn't want her to go through life afraid, especially not for my sake. It wasn't her fault that she'd been saddled with the emotionally shaky father, not the strong confident one. No matter that he had cut his parents out of his life, Alex had had a warm, secure childhood full of love, while I'd had...whatever I'd had. Something very inadequate to be sure.

Once we had it together enough, we picked up her bag, and she tried again to talk about the car, and I told her again in gentler terms that I didn't care, that her safety was all that mattered. We went inside and snuggled up on the couch. I could hardly bear to let go of her. I was _this_ close to insisting that she start taking the school bus, but that would've been going too far. She only had three days of school left.

"I wasn't paying attention," she began. "I was just distracted. I wasn't messing with my phone, I swear." I didn't answer, and she pulled away enough to look at my face. "Daddy, please," she whispered. "Everything's okay. I'm totally fine."

"I know," I croaked.

"Did you…" She swallowed. "Pop," she whispered. "Are you sure you're okay? Like...really okay? I mean, like...all around?" I bit my lip and had to look away from the earnestness in her expression. Amanda squeezed my arm. "You don't have to protect me so much," she insisted.

"Yes I do. It's my job. It's what parents are supposed to do."

"Like...your parents didn't."

Shit. I closed my eyes. "I don't want to talk about this," I whispered. "Please, honey. I've already talked all this out, over and over again." All she knew about my childhood was that my parents had seen to all my needs but the emotional ones, the most important ones, and why they'd kicked me out. She didn't need to know the details.

She was silent for a long time. "So...when I was little, in grade school...all those...those doctor's appointments Dad said you were going to…" I nodded. She clucked her tongue and put her arm over me and laid her head on my shoulder, and I shifted to take her into my arms. "You're the best dad I ever could've imagined," she murmured.

"If I was, I would've been helping you through this morning instead of Mat." My voice oozed self-loathing. I'd never forgive myself for it.

"No way," she stated vehemently. "I'm sorry Pop, but no goddamn way. You lost Dad in a horribly traumatic way. You can't control how you reacted this morning. If you could've, you would've. I don't want to hear any bullshit about how you failed me or any of that crap. Don't even start."

I huffed in disbelief but didn't fight her on it.

"You've always been there," Amanda stated. "Always. My whole life. Even when Dad was home, you were the first one I went to when I needed something, every time. And I know that hurt his feelings sometimes, but I couldn't help it. If you hadn't answered my text this morning I would've called you, and I know if I had you would've snapped out of it and talked to me. I trust that 100%."

God I loved her so much. "Still, it shouldn't have been Mat."

"Well it was, and it's over, and he was really helpful. He texted me a couple times today too, just like you did. He told me to make sure you really were okay when I got home. It was really sweet."

I nodded, my throat tight. "Yeah. He's…a good guy."

She gave me a squeeze and we held each other quietly for a while.

"Dad, maybe...maybe you really should start dating."

I groaned. "Honey, please."

"I just worry about you. About after I'm gone to college. I know you've been keeping really busy, since we moved here, but...but I don't want you sitting around the house alone being sad."

"I won't be able to help being sad."

"Depressed, then. Isn't there anybody--" I made a sound of mortification. She pressed, "I mean it, Dad. You're such a nice looking guy, and you're sweet and a good cook and funny."

"Well I'm glad you think so, but you're hardly unbiased."

"What about Mr. Vega?"

"Not this again," I muttered. "I'm not attracted to Hugo."

She was silent for a bit then she asked in disbelief, "How? I mean, the mustache is a bit much, but jeez Dad."

"It...um." I could feel my face growing hot. "It doesn't really...work that way for me. I can't just… It isn't that easy. To um...want someone. It never has been." God this was hard to talk about. I could talk to her about her period and birth control and pretty much everything under the sun as long as it didn't have to do with me.

"Ohhhh," she murmured in understanding. "Okay."

"Besides, I think he's interested in someone already. Not anyone around here, but…" He had been messaging back and forth with the Eastern Dragon, of all people. I could tell talking about it embarrassed him, like seemingly everything did, so I didn't push, but I could also tell that the two of them had really hit it off the night of the wrestling show. I wasn't sure how that would work, with the wrestler traveling the way he did, more than Alex ever had, but there had been stranger relationships.

"Do tell."

"No, I won't tell, so don't ask."

"Well what about Craig? He's hot."

"No! God, it would be like dating my own brother or cousin or something!" She was silent, too silent, and I pleaded, "Please honey, don't. If it happens with someone, it happens, but...your dad was so special, and I'm just not the kind of guy who goes out on dates or hookups or any of that, and Maple Bay isn't exactly a big town. I'll be open to it, if someone comes along. I promise." Or I'd try to be. It was hard to imagine, with as much of my thoughts as Mat occupied. Which was all of them.

"All right," she relented, then she lifted her head to look at me with big eyes. "I just want you to be happy."

I wasn't altogether certain I was wired for that, not with Alex gone, but I smiled at her anyway. "I'll try." I kissed her forehead then gently pushed her away to get up. "Mat sent me home with some apple-cranberry bread. Let's warm it up and put some butter on it."

"Yeah!"

We stuck close to each other the rest of the day, and when she headed off to school the next day I watched her go with my heart in my throat.

 _She'll be okay. She'll be okay_.

She texted me when she reached school. She was okay. God help me, I loved that child more than words could say.


	10. Chapter 10

I smelled the delicate waft of expensive cologne a moment before I heard the whisper of velvet.

"This is truly a wonderful soirée, my friend," Damien said in admiration. He was twirling a glass of sangria between his fingers. 

"Thank you. Everyone really helped pull it off," I replied, "especially Joseph." The man knew how to put together the perfect backyard party, I had to hand it to him, even if there was something about him that made me more and more uneasy the more I spent time around him. He'd asked me yesterday if I wanted to go out on his boat with him this weekend, just the two of us, and something about it had set off all kinds of alarm bells in my head. I'd told him no thanks, and he'd seemed surprised and disappointed and had pushed the issue until he'd sensed me getting uncomfortable. The way he had gone about it… No. Maybe I'd dodged a bullet, maybe I hadn't, but better safe than sorry.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, though. Even Mary was much less caustic than usual, though she had taken a shine to Amanda not long after moving in. Robert was off in a corner talking to his daughter Val, who had shown up with him. It was good to see him smiling like that, though there was a lot of vulnerability there too. I was glad that I'd been able to get through to him the last couple times we had hung out, and without sacrificing my liver or all of my dignity. That last time he had really...god, it had been hard, but worth it if he'd gone through with reconnecting with Val. Smashley had come today too, and it had been nice to sit and reminisce with her a bit. It had been sad though, seeing the sorrow in Craig's eyes when he looked at his ex-wife. I'd have to talk to him about things, a lot of things, when we went camping in a couple weeks.

"Mat has put together an especially pleasing collection of melodies."

"I tried to get him to play some Bruce Springsteen. He wouldn't budge."

Damien laughed and bumped my shoulder with his. "You're a horrible man." 

I chuckled without remorse. We watched Mat spinning tunes for a bit, content in his little corner under the patio cover. He came out every so often to mingle, and everyone made sure to talk to him as well so he didn't feel left out, but he seemed happy to be in charge of the music. I was all about making people happy. Amanda and her friends were enjoying the party and approved of the music as well. It was all really catchy, like everything Mat ever played, though it wasn't really my cup of tea. I liked music that had some real feeling to it, that told a personal story. Stillness the Dancing's music had been like that. Thank you YouTube and my poor self-control for ruining my life. I think I had half their songs memorized.

Mat took off his glasses and held them between his teeth then he reached up behind him to take the tie out of his hair, and the dreads fell around his face. He sorted them out then pulled his hair back again. God, he was beautiful.

"Why don't you just tell him?"

I stiffened, and at that moment Mat glanced up and met my eyes. I quickly pulled mine away and looked at Damien, who gazed back with sympathy. "W-what?" I whispered.

"You've been watching him all afternoon. With  _ yearning _ ." He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't yearn," I said with a hint of panic.

"Pining, then?"

"I don't pine. I'm not yearning or pining or longing or...or anything." I hated lying to him. It wasn't as if I hadn't thought about telling him either, I was just...panicking. "Christ." I took a drink of lemonade, my hand trembling. If Damien had noticed, maybe someone else had too. Things could get horribly awkward. Not the normal, everyday awkward that was my life, but a deep intense awkwardness that I might never live down.

"If I may ask--" I gurgled in the negative but he pressed on. "How long have you been carrying a torch for our dear, coffee-brewing neighbor?"

"Please don't tell anyone," I begged in a whisper.

He put his hand on his chest and bowed. "You have my solemn vow that this stays between us."

I rubbed my hand over my head, my eyes closed. "I don't know," I muttered. "Since nearly the start, I guess."

"No shit!" Damien yelped, then he collected himself and offered me his arm. "I mean: come, let us take a stroll about the garden."

I nearly protested that there was nowhere to stroll to, the backyard full of people, but he walked me towards the gate. It was standing open, and a few people had spilled into the side yard by the garage. We kept walking, Damien nodding graciously to those we passed. He kept walking until we were standing at the end of my driveway.

I set my glass on the trunk of my car and mumbled, "Not to sound ungrateful, but was this really necessary?"

"I believe so." He turned to face me, dropping his Goth persona for the time being. "So? Spill it." 

"I don't know, how am I supposed to know?" I sighed heavily and put my hands in the pockets of my shorts. "I don't know," I repeated helplessly. Damien's violet eyes looked at me with nothing but compassion. He was such a great guy. "He's just so...kind. When he found out I'd lost a spouse too, he was so understanding. He kept trying to get me to talk about it and open up, and it was...just too hard with him. He's tried to so hard to help me, and I think the world of him for it, but I like him too much for it to be comfortable, and so I keep pulling away, and I can tell it frustrates him." I rubbed my eyes then kept my hand there. "I can't stand the thought of him finding out how I feel about him and feeling uneasy around me."

He said in a dubious tone, "I sincerely doubt he would."

"I can't take that chance. I want to spend the rest of my life in this house."

Damien laughed at my histrionics. "Please. Surely you don't think Mat of all people would be weird about it? It's Mat."

I shook my head. "I'll just...wait it out."

"Wait it out," he repeated in disbelief. "It's been two months, you realize."

"It'll go away."

He looked at me askance. "If you say so." He sighed through his nose. "I'm glad you told me, and I'll honor your wishes, but frankly I think you're making a mistake. If it was out in the open you'd feel better."

"I'm sorry, but no, I wouldn't. I'd feel like my every interaction with him was being scrutinized. It would be unbearable."

"The situation as it stands doesn't strike me as particularly bearable, friend. Or tenable."

"It's bearable. I'll just keep going the way I'm going." Damien clucked his tongue and shook his head. I said, "I appreciate that you said something. I've been meaning to talk to you about it." I hesitated then said, "What you said to me that night, when we took the walk by the bay… It really stuck with me. It was just all so… Well. Maybe I'm not there yet, but someday I will be." Maybe. We'd see how well I did when Amanda's movie started to play. She'd spent the last couple weeks off and on putting it together. I should've been the one to do it, and I couldn't beyond helping her search out the content. I'd watched the finished movie with her yesterday and bawled my eyes out, so I had to hope that was enough to lessen the impact of it.

"I'm glad," Damien said. He still had a tone to his voice that told me he thought I was fooling myself, and maybe I was.

We returned to the party, and Amanda and her friends were doing something in a circle with the neighborhood girls, something that involved a lot of giggling. So damn cute.

The sun gradually set then sank below the horizon, and I felt the dread start to grow as a white sheet was hung for a screen and Damien helped Amanda set up the rented projector. I found a place out of the way, and no one tried to make me the center of attention. This wasn't about me. This was about Amanda. Every single photo and video in this movie had her in it, a timeline of her life, and there was a lot of me and Alex in it, though more Alex than me. I'd been the one to take most of our pictures, and I hated seeing myself. Alex had made a point of taking ones of me and Amanda too, but I had done most of our family documentation.

Well I was prepared, as prepared as I was going to get. I had handkerchiefs stuck in my pockets, real cloth ones with good absorbency.

Oh...Christ.

The movie opened with a picture of me and Alex in front of the hospital where she had been born. We were holding her between us, though she was in my arms, and we were grinning from ear to ear, though I knew we were both terrified that this wouldn't last, that someone somewhere would change their mind and she'd be taken from us. She was wearing a tiny pink hat with a rose on it and was bundled into a yellow blanket, both of which a friend had knitted. Amanda still had both the hat and the blanket put away in her closet. We looked so young. I supposed we had been, me only 29, my hair still brown, no crows feet, baby-faced and chubby. Alex had been only a year older, but he had always looked the younger one, especially after my hair had started turning gray prematurely.

The first tears started to fall and I felt an arm go around my shoulders.

"It's okay, bro." Craig. I hadn't realized he was anywhere nearby.

It wasn't okay, not really, even though the video was happy. Everyone was smiling in every single photo and video. We'd given her such a good life. I was proud of that. I had done for her what I hadn't had anyone to do for me, like any parent should. She was such a fantastic kid, and Alex and I had made sure she was a happy one too.

It felt strange though, watching myself and Alex age. He'd always had the benefit of a boyish look, boyish energy, that had made him seem younger than he was. The years had never seemed to weigh him down the way they had me, no matter how happy I was. He had always told me he loved that I was so serious at times, that I cared so much and worried about the things no one else did. And I'd loved that he was always optimistic, always so positive and energetic. We'd balanced each other out.

God, I missed him so much, and this was tearing my heart out. We'd been together 22 years, and it seemed like it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Everyone was good about not staring at me, and I was able to smile a little and laugh in spots. The movie was a big hit, as it should be. I knew Amanda had worked hard on it. I heard lots of sniffs too. I was sure some of them were for my loss, and Amanda's, for Alex being taken too young, but I wanted to believe that most of them were because the movie had been so touching. And it had been. It was a masterpiece.

It ended and everyone burst into applause. The lights were still low, the yard lit by tiki torches and strings of lights, and I was glad of it. I was a blubbery mess, red-eyed and red-nosed. Craig was rubbing my back and sniffing himself. Of all the people here, he and Ashley were the only ones who had known Alex, though Craig had known him better than she had. I was so looking forward to getting away with him next weekend.

Amanda stood and raised her hands over her head, and I whispered, "Oh no, honey. Please."

Oh yes, she did. I should've known she would. She gave a poignant speech about both her dads, about everything we had done for her, but especially me, and I sat there and had to take it, the handkerchief over my mouth and nose. She knew she was killing me, but this meant so much to me too.

She picked her way through the crowd to hug me, and I buried my face in her hair. "I love you so much," I whispered.

"I love you too, Daddy," she choked. "I'm sorry."

"No, no it was beautiful. It really was. I'm so proud of you." I was. I was so proud it felt like my heart was going to burst.

The party went on and somehow I managed to get myself together. No one babied me but I wasn't ignored either, people striking the right balance most of the time, and I recovered, but… Damn I was sad. I was happy, happy for Amanda, for how she had to feel right now. She had her whole life spread out before her, so much to look forward to. But all I could think about was that video, and Alex, and how he should have been there with us.


	11. Chapter 11

Pounding. More pounding. Whoever it was, they weren't giving up.

I groaned and threw back the covers. I couldn't imagine who the hell it would be on a Monday… something. Afternoon? I didn't know what time it was, but I didn't particularly care either. Amanda was still at the beach house Emma P's parents had rented and would be there until tomorrow; she was checking in regularly and had put the parents on the phone to assure me everyone was being discreetly chaperoned and making good choices, so I had no reason to be up and around, and every reason not to be.

I wrapped the afghan around me and trudged through the house. I'd gone to bed Saturday night after the girls had taken off in Emma R's car, packed for their graduation getaway, and that was pretty much where I had stayed. Someone had knocked on the door yesterday a couple times, but they hadn't been this persistent and had gone away before I had to rouse myself. My car was home, so they knew I was too. Everyone had messaged me on DadBook at least once, even Robert, which had been a shocker, and a few had texted, and I had politely told them I was fine and hadn't elaborated, and they hadn't pushed. Whoever this was, they were pushing.

Peeking through the peephole, I saw it was Mat, a very agitated-looking Mat, his dark eyes narrowed and his lips pursed as if he meant business. He must, if he wasn't going away.

I debated ignoring him, but he jiggled his leg and shook his head in determination then lifted his fist again. "Goddamn it," I whispered, unlocking the door and opening it. "Jesus Christ, what is it?" I muttered, squinting. As if I didn't know.

"It's 1:15 in the afternoon," he stated with an edge to his voice.

"Yeah? Shouldn't you be at work?" Everyone else was. The cul-de-sac had been quiet today, up until now. Hugo might be home, since school was out, but other than that everyone else was at work and their kids at daycare or friends' houses. I had just finished a job last week and a new one was in the planning stages, but it wasn't a rush, the client on vacation this week with his family.

Mat let out a short laugh and shook his head then looked away. "You're really something, dude," he said in a hurt, disbelieving tone.

"I'm sorry, but I was sleep--"

"No you weren't. I know damn well you weren't." My stomach chose that moment to growl, extremely loudly, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I had a bowl of cereal."

"When?"

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. "Mat, look--"

"Go take a shower and get dressed, then you're going to eat something."

He was awfully cute when he was feeling feisty, a side of him I hadn't really seen before. I wasn't quite in the mood to appreciate it, though. "I'm hardly going to waste away," I stated. "It isn't as if I don't have the resources to spare. I mean, look at me." His nostrils flared and his eyes widened like he was really going to lay into me. He was actually angry with me. Really, truly angry. Worried-angry, to be fair, but angry all the same. I rubbed my face then left my hand over my eyes. "Okay," I whispered. "Fine."

He relaxed a little, looking sullen now more than angry. "Can I come in?"

I nearly said something biting about being babysat. If I said I was going to shower and eat then I would. I was hardly fit for company, and I wasn't about to sit around making small talk. I just wanted to be left alone and go to sleep and wait for my daughter to make it back home. But I stepped aside and gathered the blanket around me with as much dignity as I could manage and left the door standing open then walked towards the back of the house.

He didn't follow me as I feared he would, instead closing the storm door then taking a seat on the couch to pull out his phone and look at it. Maybe he was looking at that calming app, who knew.

I tried not to grumble as I got out clean clothes. This was all really damn presumptuous of him, pounding on my door three times in a day and making a pest of himself until I complied with what he thought was good for me. He was doing it because he cared, and he was worried, and that was really sweet, and that was the only reason I wasn't angrier at that moment. I'd been able to tell Saturday night that he was upset for me, worried about me, after Amanda's movie had played; he'd hardly taken his eyes off me the rest of the night and had been reluctant to leave once the party ended. I was amazed frankly that he had waited this long to force me out of bed.

I closed the bathroom door harder than intended and locked it for good measure, just to be petulant, regretting each action as I took it, then I turned on the shower and the fan and forced myself to wash. I didn't bother shaving, though I hated how white my beard was. That was just that one step more than I could manage right now.

After I got out I ran a toothbrush with water over my teeth and put on deodorant then dressed. Going through the motions was making me feel incrementally better and I really fucking resented it. I really did. It was churlish of me, but it was the truth. 

When I came out and saw that Mat had opened all the blinds and curtains in the living room, I had to grit my teeth against the urge to lay into him. I didn't see him anywhere, but I heard dishes clinking. Oh my god. He was messing around in my kitchen.

I found him spreading mayonnaise on two pieces of bread, and the brief surge of anger drained out of me. Oh. He was making a sandwich. For me.

"I hope this is okay," he quietly said, keeping his eyes on his task.

"Yeah," I whispered. I sank down onto a stool. He made me a nice sandwich, with layers of lettuce and ham and swiss, some tomato, and just a touch of spicy mustard, not too much. My stomach started growling as he assembled it, and I self-consciously put my hand over my gut. Mat snorted a laugh and glanced at me over the tops of his glasses. I tried to smile but couldn't. I just wasn't there yet. He put the sandwich in front of me. It was a good-looking sandwich. Not anywhere near as good-looking as the man making it, though. I suddenly realized how long his eyelashes were, and how they curled upwards.

I frowned at the sandwich, my expression pained, then I picked it up and began eating it, slowly, not meeting his eyes. He sighed and got me a glass of water then left me to it, going to sit back down on the couch.

It was a good sandwich, and I was hungry, so I ate it. I wished I could have enjoyed it more.

As I finished eating he asked, "What are you doing for dinner?" I laid my forehead on the heel of my hand and grumbled, and I heard him get up. "I'm not dragging you out," he said as he came over. "Come have dinner at my place with me and Carmensita, that's all."

I closed my eyes. "Mat,  _ please _ ," I whispered. He didn't respond, and when I opened my eyes and looked up at him he was staring at me with a weird expression. He met my eyes then quickly looked away. "Look, I know you're trying to help," I mumbled. "And...and this does help, but--"

"Well god damn, no one else is doing anything," he said in frustration.

"Everyone's been checking on me. All the dads messaged me yesterday, and most of them texted me, yesterday and today. Someone came over a couple times yesterday and knocked on the door."

"I was one of those times."

"Okay, well someone else was the other." I thought it might have been Damien, from the fancy pattern of the knock. It would have been Damien, or Craig. Craig had texted me more than anyone else had. I knew he was worried about me too, but unlike Mat he took my word that I was fine, even when he knew I probably wasn't. 

"Well  _ someone  _ should've come over today and checked on you."

"Everyone's at work."

"Not everyone." It was obvious who he meant.

"Hugo's been stressed out and is enjoying his first day of summer break."

"This is more important than that!" Mat exclaimed. "Where the hell are his priorities!"

I looked at him in confusion. "I'm not his responsibility," I stated. "I'm not anyone's. I would have gotten up tomorrow before Amanda came home. I wasn't going to let her see me like this."

"That isn't--" He let out a defeated huff of breath. "That isn't the point," he said tiredly. He took off his glasses for a moment to rub his right eye. "Do whatever you want the rest of the day, but come over for dinner, all right?"

"All right." I had to relent, after the trouble he had gone through today. I had to admit, it felt nice to be taken care of, if only for a little bit.

I just didn't understand Mat's deal with Hugo, though.

I agreed to go over to his place at 5:30, and I was told to bring over absolutely nothing except myself and maybe a board game or two. I could manage that. Amanda and I had a wide assortment of classics.

Mat left my place, and I closed the door then watched him through the gaps in the blinds as he marched across the street to Hugo's house. What on earth was his issue with Hugo?!

I shook my head and saw him pound on the door, not as hard as he had pounded on mine, but with a definite ring of authority to it. Ernest answered, then Duchess Cordelia was trying to jump all over Mat, and the kid hauled her back. Ernest shook his head and slammed the door in Mat's face. Mat waited but Hugo didn't appear, so apparently he wasn't home after all.

Mat turned around and I ducked down behind the couch to avoid getting caught watching, and I waited a minute then peeked over it to see him turning the corner, heading back to the coffee shop, doing something on his phone then holding it up to speak into it, his shoulders hunched and irritable. I hoped to god he wasn't texting Hugo. Hugo had messaged and texted me the same as any of the others. He didn't have any reason to check up on me any more than anyone else did. Granted, we had become good friends, but not any more so than I was with Damien, and definitely not as much as I was with Craig, regardless of us going on that trip last… weekend…

My mouth fell open as a horrifying realization dawned on me.

Mat thought we were dating.

Mat thought Hugo and I were dating.

Mat thought Hugo was my boyfriend.

"Oh shiiiit," I whispered. The weekend away. The hugging over the wrestling tickets. The weekly cheese board with our semi-intimate corner table. Our holding hands that first time out. Mat thought we were dating each other. Me and Hugo. He thought we were a couple, so of course he was offended that Hugo wasn't doing more to cheer me up and check in on me. Oh my  _ god _ .

I heard my phone ping in the bedroom, then a second time, and I went back to get it, seeing a text from...Hugo. Then another.

_ HUGO: OH GOD MAT THINKS WE'RE DATING _

_ HUGO _ :  _ I TOLD HIM WE'RE NOT BUT HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT GAVE HIM THAT IDEA _

_ ME _ :  _ you mean other than the weekend away and the hugging and our corner table and other things _

_ HUGO _ :  _ WE'RE JUST FRIENDS!!1! _

_ HUGO _ :  _ NOT THAT YOU AREN'T A VERY ATTRACTIVE MAN AND VERY PLEASANT TO SPEND TIME WITH! _

_ ME _ :  _ why are you yelling at me _

My phone rang, and of course it was Hugo.

"Jesus Christ, Mitchell!" Hugo cried.

"Hello?" I calmly replied. This was actually pretty funny, now that the shock was wearing off.

"Mitchell, please, this is just…"

"I came to the realization two seconds before your text. Of what he thought. He left my place and marched right over to yours and pounded on the door."

"God." He sighed. "Just...wait a second, he's texting again..." I heard him messing with his phone then he let out a short, barking laugh. "He's horribly embarrassed and doesn't want me to tell you. It's a little late for that."

Poor Mat. I bet he was absolutely mortified. "Tell him you're dating the Eastern Dragon."

Hugo yelped, "But I'm not!"

" _ Yet _ ." He made a sound of offense then started laughing. I heard weird noises in the background and asked, "Where are you?"

"Getting my oil changed. Very exciting stuff." I heard a ding then it sounded like he was outside. "Are you, uh...all right?" he asked softly. I let out a grumble. He said with concern, "I didn't realize you were feeling so down or I would have come over. Damien said he was going to check on you yesterday."

"He did. I ignored him."

"Have you really been… I'm not trying to get into your business…"

"I just...get that way sometimes. It caught up to me for a little bit."

"Two days is more than a little bit."

"I was going to get up in the morning and clean the house before Amanda came home. I would've pulled myself out of it eventually. I always do."

"All right, but...you know you can always reach out, right?"

Of course I did, but unfortunately I'd never been good at that. "Sometimes I just want to lie in bed and wallow in it for a while. Mat doesn't seem to understand that, or doesn't want to. It's sweet that he strong-armed his way--"

"He what?"

"He pounded on my door until I got up and answered it, ordered me to take a shower and get dressed, then he forced a ham sandwich on me."

Hugo murmured, "My god, that's adorable."

It really was. If only… Oh, if only.

I let Hugo return to his riveting task, and I stood there a moment and wrestled with the desire to go back to bed, only barely resisting it. I instead opened the blinds and blackout curtains in my room and picked up in there, turned on some New Agey background music, and forced myself to sit down and start on the new project. I wasn't feeling creative, at all, but I could at least read through the preliminary specs and start on the planning.

It wasn't hard to keep myself busy the few hours until it was time to go to Mat's. I debated giving him a hard time about the misunderstanding, but one look at him told me that would be cruel. Carmensita answered the door, clapping her hands in delight when she saw my stack of board games. Mat was in the kitchen and kept his back to us.

"Do you need help with anything?" I called. 

"No no I'm good," he answered, his voice pitched higher than usual, "got everything under control, just making a salad and it isn't anything fancy or anything, the chicken is already done and there's bread and I've...got it all under control. It's all good. You can just sit down and relax and Carmensita honey why don't you two start a game or something."

I left the poor guy alone. I wouldn't say anything about Hugo, or about what happened earlier today. I was up and about and feeling tolerable, and Amanda would be home tomorrow afternoon at some point. It was as good as could be expected.

We took the games to the kitchen table and I asked Carmensita, "What looks good? Some of these are a bit old."

"Monopoly," she said without hesitation. "Dad won't play it with me. He isn't mean enough. He always feels bad taking my rent and properties."

"Well, young lady, you'll get no such mercy from me. You'll find yourself out on the streets in the dead of winter with holes in your shoes and five starving children at your feet without my shedding a tear." Mat made a sound that could have been laughter, or dismay.

She laughed in delight. "You're so on, slum lord."

We set up the game while Mat did his thing in the kitchen, and I asked him, "Are you in?"

He shook his head and said in amusement, "Nah man, that's all you two. I'm not getting caught in the middle of your real estate war. I'll just watch and try to pick up the broken pieces of whoever loses."

I laughed and Carmensita giggled. She insisted on being the banker, which was fine with me.

"Man, this game really is old," she said. She took out some yellowed paper real estate cards that I'd had to make to take the place of the missing ones.

"I've had it since college. The roommate before Craig left it behind." I helped her sort everything out. Amanda had never had the patience for this, though Alex and I used to play once in a great while. The spaghetti sauce stain on the Vermont Avenue space on the board was from him.

We began to play, and within a few minutes Mat said dinner was ready. It was laid out on the kitchen island, a green salad full of...everything, with a bowl of shredded cooked chicken, a few different dressings, a loaf of thick sliced sourdough… "This looks amazing," I murmured.

"Oh, um, thanks man," Mat mumbled. "Just a salad."

I didn't push the issue. He was acting like he was still anxious, and it made me wonder if I should broach the subject of Hugo. Maybe Mat was just waiting for that shoe to drop? Had Hugo even told him that I knew? He hadn't said.

I decided again to leave it alone. Hugo had said Mat was really embarrassed and didn't want me to know, so I'd play along and pretend I didn't know, just in case Hugo hadn't said anything about it.

Carmensita filled the silence, more than happy to have another adult to talk to that wasn't her dad. She was a really sweet, vivacious kid, fun to hang out with. It was nice to spend time with her. She couldn't completely fill the hole that Amanda's absence was causing, and would cause even worse all too soon, but this really helped. I was glad Mat had suggested it.

Mat eventually warmed up when it became apparent I wasn't going to bring up the misunderstanding in even a tangential way. He found our ruthlessness in the game amusing, though I saw him briefly look pained when I lost a property and Carmensita told me she was throwing me out on the street to beg for stale bread crusts. I found it funny, even if he didn't. His daughter didn't know that I had briefly been homeless, and good lord, it had been nearly thirty years ago. It wasn't as if I hadn't playfully threatened her with the same at the beginning of the game.

We still hadn't finished the game by time I said I had to leave, cognizant of the fact that Mat opened the coffee shop at the crack of dawn. We left the game where it was on the dining table with a promise to finish it some other night. It had felt good to laugh, after the last two days of deep sadness and the emotional roller coaster of Amanda's party Saturday night. We talked about Carmensita's plans for the summer and their trip coming up next week to visit her grandparents in Atlanta, I talked about my camping trip this coming weekend with Craig and some of the more innocent stories of our college escapades. It was a really nice night.

Mat offered to walk me home and I demurred, and he didn't push the issue, though for a few seconds it looked like he might. I hesitated then gave him a quick hug and whispered  _ thank you _ , and when he pulled back his eyes were shining. Why did he have to be so handsome? So kind and sweet?

Amanda returned the next day around 3:00, without a clue that I had spent a day and a half in bed depressed, and I planned to keep it that way. She was a deeper brown from lying on the beach and just about bouncing off the walls, excited to tell me about everything they had done. We had always lived close to the ocean; what was it going to be like for her to live in Chicago? The Great Lakes were basically inland seas, but it wasn't the same, or so I imagined.

Nothing was going to be the same. I was so happy for her, for doing something so brave. And me… I would just keep going, the way I always did.


	12. Chapter 12

Mat wasn't here?

I ordered a Father John Misto from Pablo, who was looking a little stressed. "Hey, um...is Mat back yet?" I asked. He had been gone all last week, visiting his parents down south, and Carmensita was staying all this week with them too, but Mat should've been back by now. I hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks, since right before my camping trip with Craig. It was very early July, and I was starting to get worried. And...I missed him.

"Yeah dude, but he's sick," Pablo said in a distracted tone as he rang me up. "Uh...for here?"

"No, I'll take it with me this time. Thank you." The teen chewed at his bottom lip and filled the order, and I told him, "You've been doing a really great job holding this place together, Pablo. I mean it."

He gave me one of his charming, crooked smiles. "That's means a lot to me, dude, thanks! I just hope he gets back soon, you know? Those summer colds can be harsh, though. Probably picked it up on the plane or something."

"Probably." The poor guy. I wondered if he needed anything? I had a quart of frozen chicken soup in the garage fridge; I'd made it back in May but it was still totally fine. I'd take over the soup along with some cold medicine. How unobservant was I that I hadn't noticed that he hadn't left his house?

Why hadn't he said anything, though? On DadBook or something, just a post that he was out sick? Most of the dads were semi-regulars at his shop, though I probably was the most regular patron along with Robert. Robert had been drinking a lot more coffee since he'd cut back on his drinking. Looked healthier too. Happier. I was definitely glad for him, and his daughter. I was sure that they would have some rough patches, but things really seemed to be looking up for him.

I walked back home, enjoying the sunny weather. Maybe I'd work out in the yard and get some sun after I sent over the latest revisions to my client. Maybe take a nap under the cherry tree. I wondered if I should get a hammock. One of those portable ones with the metal frame, so I could move it in and out of the shade when I wanted.

At home I glanced at Mat's house, and the curtains were open but I couldn't see any movement inside. I should have noticed that the curtains hadn't been opened since he was due back. What a great friend I was.

I got out the quart of soup and put it in a pot on the stove to thaw and heat up and found some cold medicine that by some miracle wasn't expired. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten a summer cold, and really hoped I didn't catch this one. I didn't work in a service industry where people were understandably picky about the person serving them being sick, but I still wanted to avoid getting ill.

The soup took seemingly forever to come up to a piping hot temperature, but once it did I filled a big Thermos, grabbed the medicine, and headed over.

I heard Mat coughing before he reached the door, and it was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. Then he spoke through the door.

"I'm sick, dude," he said in a muffled voice.

I held up the Thermos in front of the peephole. "I know. I have homemade chicken soup."

The door creaked open, and the poor guy looked like hell. Mat's eyes and nose were puffy and he had circles under his eyes. "You're an angel straight from heaven," he rasped.

I chuckled and blushed, and he stood aside to let me in. "Caught it on the plane?" I guessed.

"Yeah. Happens every goddamn time, I swear, but this is the worst I've gotten it in a long time." He coughed into the crook of his elbow. I handed him the Thermos and he beamed at me, or tried to. "Aw man, you didn't have to."

"I had an extra quart frozen in the garage. It wasn't any trouble." I handed him a few blister packs of medicine. "For later."

"Thanks. I really mean it." We went the short distance to the kitchen and he got out a mug. "I should've told everyone I was back, but I didn't want anyone getting it. Did Pablo look like he was doing all right?"

"A little rough around the edges, but holding it together."

"He's a great kid." Mat opened the Thermos. "I wish I could smell this."

"I have it on good authority that I make great soup."

He smiled at me and poured some in the mug. It was still steaming, full of carrots and potatoes and thin noodles, and chunks of dark meat chicken swimming in a broth full of herbs. Mat's smile faded as he stared at the soup, then he glanced up at me and smiled again, uncertainly this time. "Looks really good," he said with a nod.

"I hope so."

He picked up a spoonful and blew on it, and when he took the bite he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. " _Sopa de pollo con fideo_ , right?" he murmured, opening his eyes.

Oh. _Ohh_. Rosa. I nodded. "Alex used to make it. Big batches of it, and we'd freeze some for when we were sick. He taught me how to make it, the _sofrito_ and everything, but his was better."

"I doubt that," he whispered. He took another bite and closed his eyes briefly again, looking like he was about to transcend to another plane. "Shit, this is good. You have no idea." He looked at me so gratefully I thought he was going to cry.

"Fixes what ails you," I joked. "Or at least I um...hope it does." I cleared my throat, feeling my face grow warm again as he stared at me. God he was lovely, even as sick as he was. I hated that he wasn't feeling good, and that there wasn't much I could do to help other than the soup. I wanted so badly to stay here and take care of him, but that was clearly out of the question. He dropped his gaze and continued eating the soup. "Did...um, Rosa used to make it?"

He laughed, sending him into a spasm of coughing. "Oh hell no. She couldn't cook at all. But her mom made it a lot, while she stayed with us. While Rosa was sick. She sends us home with some once in a while, when we go visit. Hers is just a little different, but I'd know this soup anywhere."

My voice rough, I said, "Well I'm...glad. That you like it." It honestly hadn't occurred to me that the soup was anything other than...chicken noodle soup. Between the three of us, that was all Alex had ever called it. I knew it was a Puerto Rican recipe though, and that connection should have registered with me. "I should, um...let you get some rest. When does Carmensita come back?"

"Sunday. I pick her up at the airport at ten."

That was four days from today. "Oh. Well, um, get well soon."

"I'll try." He smiled at me, a sweet, hesitant thing. "Thanks again for the soup. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem." He walked me to the door and I said, "No rush to bring back the Thermos. I think I'm done with it for the summer."

"Right, the camping trip. How was it?"

"Fantastic. We had a really great time. Talked a lot of things out. I keep trying to get him to slow down a little, and I think we managed that. We jumped off a waterfall. Nothing exciting." I wasn't sure why I felt compelled to say that, but the way Mat went still and looked at me with wide eyes made it worth it. It made me feel like maybe I was daring and interesting, even if I wasn't.

"No shit," he said in amazement.

"It was nice. Like old times, but with more back pain. For me, anyway. Craig was very...vocal about how out of shape I am." Mat looked offended, scowling, and I admitted, "I promised him I'd start going to the gym. It was really embarrassing." I wouldn't take my shirt off in front of him at first and he'd acted hurt by it. Once I had, I'd gotten over it, and after all, I'd been a lot chubbier in college. It wasn't the chub that bothered me so much as what terrible shape I was in. The big 5-0 was looming closer every year. And someday I'd have grandkids to chase after, maybe. If Amanda wanted kids. If she never did that was perfectly all right too.

"He shouldn't have done that to you," Mat muttered.

"He was worried about me, that's all. He wasn't mocking me or anything. It wasn't that hard a hike and I was wheezing so hard I was afraid a pack of wolves would come out of the woods to cull me from the herd."

Mat frowned deeply and said in aggravation, "That just...that isn't funny, man."

I sighed, thinking his defensiveness of me was rather sweet. "It isn't that big a deal. I just need to start exercising. You and Craig and Hugo are so…" I gestured to his upper body. He went still again, staring at me with wide eyes, "So, um...fit?" My voice squeaked a little on the last word. I felt my face warming. God, I had to get out of here. "Anyway, I'm glad you liked the soup. I'll uh, make sure to double the next batch so you and Carmensita can have some, all right, well, I hope you feel better soon. Bye!"

I heard a faint _goodbye_ at my back as I escaped out the door. Idiot! At least I'd included Hugo and Craig in there too, but why had I felt the idiotic need to gesture to his physique? What a great way to make someone feel uncomfortable. That was exactly what I had been trying to avoid all along by keeping my attraction to myself. The last thing I wanted was to make him uneasy around me. It was obvious that he already felt sorry for me without adding that to it too.

I made it into my house and reheated the last bit of soup that wouldn't fit in the Thermos. It was awfully good soup. It wasn't really soup weather, but I wasn't going to let it go to waste.

I sat down at my computer and worked for a bit before looking up the info for the gym that Craig went to, the one that I was fairly certain Hugo and Mat went to as well. There were only two gyms in town, and this one was closest, so I assumed it was. Craig was one of the early birds and hit the gym right after dropping off River at daycare. I was most definitely not an early riser, especially now that Amanda was out of school. I wasn't really sure what was going to keep me on the straight and narrow once she left. When would be the best time to go? For me it would be in the afternoon, before the 8-5 crowd got out of work. Not anytime between 11-1 either, to avoid the lunch crowd. 3:00? 4:00? 3:00 might be best, to avoid any chance of running into Mat, since the Coffee Spoon closed at 3:00 and it took him about an hour to clean and close up.

All right. I was going to do it. I had to do it. The camping trip had really brought home how sad my physical condition was, and it was only going to go downhill from here. Craig was 46 and well nigh unstoppable. I had no excuse other than complacency.

I got in the car and drove to the gym, and endured half an hour of the pitch, with the representative trying to sell me on a personal trainer, which I wasn't at all interested in. I didn't need someone half my age giving me motivational speeches and reminding me of how old I was just by their sheer exuberance. If I really wanted a personal trainer I'd go early with Craig and let him do it. He'd made it clear he was willing. Well I wasn't.

There. I had just joined a gym. I had to sit in the car and revel in this one small success for a few minutes. I wasn't trying to look like any of the other super-fit dads, I just wanted to be healthy. Amanda would be proud of me. So would Craig, but I wasn't going to say anything to him, or any of the other dads, until I had been going a while. And maybe I was hoping that if I went for a while that people would notice. Or I'd meet someone, someone who could maybe take my mind off Mat. Wasn't the gym a good place to meet people? Or had I been watching too many sitcoms?

* * *

What made me think I'd meet anyone here?

I'd been going to the gym for a month now, and...yes, all right, fine, I was definitely in better shape. I had way more energy, and sure, yes, my clothes fit better, even if I had actually gained weight, and I was sleeping like a rock now, but everyone here was just so damned...focused. A lot of the twenty-somethings did mingle and do more talking than working out, but all the people anywhere close to my age seemed to be training with an intense single-minded focus for some Middle Age Marathon I was unaware of.

There were some guys here close to my age, but most of them wore wedding rings, or kept watching themselves in the wall mirror to an extent that I found fairly concerning. Mostly they just…didn't appeal to me. And how could they, when they weren't Mat?

I sped up the treadmill one more notch, in an attempt to run out my frustration. Why did he have to be so perfect? He was so kind and gentle, but he wouldn't take no for an answer when he really felt passionately about something. He wore his hair down sometimes now, and when he did I felt like asking him just what on earth he thought he was doing, being so handsome. But I didn't. I just...tried not to look. We hung out once in a while, with the girls, always with the girls, though that was my doing, and I did go to the coffee shop at least twice a week on my own, but when we did spend time together I tried not to look at him, afraid that I would stare. He'd asked me to go to a show with him last weekend, and I'd gone but had begged off on going to the diner afterward, something I could tell bothered and disappointed him. He'd wanted to hold me when the second anniversary of Alex's death had arrived, and I hadn't allowed it, so instead he had sat with me and Amanda on the couch, looking pained and helpless while we wept, and when he had cried a little too it was almost more than I could bear.

Well what else could I do? Every time I saw him I felt this sick, aching knot in my gut, and a teeny tiny voice deep in my head whispered that maybe I loved him, just a little. It was pretty much the worst thing that could have happened to me, and blatantly unfair. He was my next door neighbor. Damien told me at least once a week that I was being ridiculous, and I accepted his admonishment and went on with my life.

And so now here we were in the first week of August, and next Monday Amanda and I were heading out on our trip to Chicago. Classes started the last week of August and I had to get Amanda settled into her dorm room before that. She was so wound up that she barely sat still these days, and I was so excited for her, but exhausted too. It was a damn good thing I had been working out or I wouldn't have the energy to be any help to her. I would have done my best, but my best would have been inadequate for sure.

I figured I had done enough damage for one day and headed to the locker room, wiping off my head and neck then drinking some water on the way. As I reached my locker I saw a text from Mat come through.

MAT: _Hey man, are you still going to open mic night this Saturday? Don't bail on me, dude_

MAT: _Hugo and Damien are going, you can sit with them_

I stared at it for a moment then sighed through my nose and opened the lock. I'd promised I would go, after not going to July's, though to be fair Mat hadn't wanted to go to that one either, still getting over being sick.

I should go. To be supportive. I hadn't been as much as I would have liked lately, but it was just so damn hard. And unfair. Unfair to Mat. I knew he was unhappy about how awkward things were, and it was all my fault, for not knowing how to handle my feelings. He had been so supportive of me and Amanda since the day we'd moved in, and here I was balking at just sitting and listening to some music.

So what was I going to do when I got back from the trip, without Amanda, and Mat asked to go do something? Carmensita would still be around, but…

How was I going to keep doing this? Nearly four months I'd lived on the cul-de-sac, and it wasn't getting any better, was in fact only getting worse. I should've listened to Damien when he doubted me.

Christ, I didn't know what to tell Mat. I didn't want to go. The times I had gone, the music really hadn't been to my taste and Mat had been clearly anxious getting up and talking. I wasn't sure why he kept doing it to himself, other than that he loved music and wanted to support the local scene. And I wanted to keep supporting him, but...

MAT: _Come on Mitchell, I need you, don't let me down man_

Wow, that was just...totally unfair. He really knew how to hit me where it hurt. I sighed and got out my towel to take a shower, glad that there were only a few other people rustling around in here.

MAT: _shit i shouldn't have said that i apologize_

ME: _No worries. I'll be there._

There. I'd leave it at that. I hoped Mat didn't feel bad. I'd known what he meant, but he was obviously remembering my humiliating breakdown over Amanda's car accident. Maybe Mat hadn't thought anything of it, but the memory of it still stung.

I moved to close my locker and glanced to my side and immediately froze in shock. About five lockers down was Mat. Mat typing a text into his phone with his thumbs, his shirt off. He still had his work pants on, as if he was changing into his gym clothes, and they were partly unbuttoned, hanging off his hips as if they were barely staying on. He was every bit as toned as I'd imagined he was, and I had spent a hell of a lot of time this summer imagining. The tattoos on his left arm spread onto the left side of his chest, which was graced by a sprinkling of dark curls in the center that ran in a line down, down, down. He was... _perfect_. Gorgeous. How could anyone be so masculine yet so beautiful?

He made a sound of frustration and lowered the phone as he raised his eyes and I heard my own phone ping. His eyes widened at the same time mine yanked themselves up from their rude appraisal, and I began silently freaking out as I turned away. And promptly banged face-first into the door of my locker, which had swung back open.

"You okay?"

I wasn't okay. I wasn't even marginally okay. "Good," I squawked. I shoved my towel back into my bag. No shower. Must escape. "This--" My throat was so goddamn dry. I took a drink of water, hiding behind the locker door. My only saving grace was that I hadn't stared long enough for it to start getting a rise out of me. I had always observed strict locker room etiquette, and that I had breached it so egregiously was horrifying. I wouldn't have if it hadn't been Mat. It wasn't as if I didn't see ripped guys in here all the time. I always silently congratulated them on their workout regimen and kept my eyes to myself.

But this was _Mat_ . Beautiful, perfect Mat. My face was on fucking _fire_.

"This isn't your usual time," I said in a rough voice. I put everything away and grabbed the lock off the door, not meeting his eyes.

"I...uh...I was, uh," he said in a faint voice. "At the...the uh, shop. Pablo. Said he wanted to uh… try closing up. Thought I'd…let him."

"Yay Pablo," I squeaked. Shit.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I didn't realize you went here. I thought you'd lost some weight but didn't want to...uh, say anything."

He'd noticed. Or was he just saying that to be nice? "The camping trip. With Craig. Kind of worried me. I'd rather not die of a heart attack." I gathered my gym bag then shut the locker door, harder than I should have. "See you Saturday," I stated, and turned away without looking at him even a little. I couldn't risk it.

"But it's only Tuesday," he said in a plaintive tone to my retreating back.

I didn't answer, and I felt like an asshole for it. There was no way in hell I was going to the Coffee Spoon again this week. Or the gym. Or trivia night. The image of Mat's fantastic body was seared into my brain, and there was no way I was going to sit in his shop and have that image in the back of my head while he went about running his business. I'd feel like a creep.

God, what was I going to do? There hadn't been any mistaking the look I'd given him. He had seen it plain as day.

Maybe...maybe it was time to be honest with him. I'd hit a new low in awkward interactions with him, and it wasn't fair to him. I worried that he thought that he was the problem. And he was, just not in the way he might think.

I escaped to my car and sat there with my forehead on the steering wheel, trying to calm down. Mat would be good about it. Surely he would. I just had to figure out how to break it to him.

_I'm sorry for how weird things have been, but I'm really attracted to you and have been from nearly the start and this is really unusual for me and I don't know how to handle it and I'm so sorry._

That wasn't bad. It was the unvarnished truth, after all. But when to tell him? The thought of telling him made my heart rate soar and my stomach start to churn. How did you break such a thing to your next door neighbor? To your friend?

Maybe I should break it to him in a text, right before I left with Amanda. I could go to open mic night, be supportive, and then Monday morning before we left I could tell him. He would be at work, but that might be a good thing. He'd have that distraction to take his mind off it, and he'd be too busy to talk about it or god forbid come to my house to discuss it in person. And he'd want to. For all his nerves he was usually the type to just face things head on, in his own gentle way.

Okay. I could do that. I had a game plan. Maybe I'd even stick to it.

I blew out a long calming breath and lifted my head. Mat would be good about it. He was a sweet, gentle guy, without any hangups that I could tell. Things might be weird for a little bit, while we figured out how to navigate this, but it would be an honest weird at least. Embarrassing for me, but I didn't see how it could be any worse than today.

As I put on my seat belt I heard my phone ping, and I shook my head and put my sunglasses on and pulled out of the parking spot. I wasn't going to answer that. Not until I got home. I still had an unread text from Mat, the one he had sent while was I so shamelessly ogling him.

I stubbornly refused to check my texts until I got into the house. I left the front door open with the storm door shut and the screen open, to let some fresh air into the stuffy house, cracking open some other windows as well. There. Amanda was out with her friends again, somewhere. She never had found a summer job, and I hadn't had the heart to force the issue. She'd babysat Joseph's kids a few times, and Craig's, but other than that her time had been hers. I knew I hadn't done her any favors by not insisting a couple years ago that she get a part time job, but it had always been more important to me that she do well in school.

I sat down at the kitchen counter and opened my phone.

_MAT: you're not under any obligation, i'd just like it if you came that's all_

That was sweet. And I would go on Saturday. I nearly reiterated my promise that I would, when I saw the next text. The one he must have sent from inside the gym while I was freaking out in my car.

_MAT: hey...maybe we could go grab something to eat later tonight and talk?_

Shit. Shitshitshit. No. Hell no! I knew damn well what he meant, and I wasn't ready for that. The thought was making my heart race and I was sweating all over again. Which reminded me that I hadn't taken a shower after working out.

What on earth was I supposed to say?

I wrestled with my response for so long that I nearly just let the whole damn thing go and ignored his text altogether. That wasn't fair to him though, was rather rude in fact. I had to say something, even if it was a flat out lie.

_ME: I'm sorry but with Amanda leaving I'm really busy all this week but I'll see you Saturday night_

He didn't respond right away, but if he was working out that was understandable. When he finally did a few minutes later I felt horrible.

_MAT: Sure. -_- Right. Okay. Have it your way._

_MAT: But you'd damn well better be there Saturday._

Great. Mat was upset with me. I was such a coward.

I silently castigated myself while I showered. I felt like some turning point had been reached, and I despised myself for it, I really did. Mat didn't deserve any of the weirdness that I'd inflicted on him for the last four months. No one did. I felt terrible that he was so obviously unhappy with my blatant lie. He'd texted a squinty face, and for Mat that was serious stuff.

What if Mat texted Amanda? I suddenly realized that he had Amanda's number. What if he forced the issue by just showing up at my house?

No. Mat wouldn't do that. He could be gently firm when he wanted to be, but I didn't think he would do that to me.

_Please let him not do that to me._


	13. Chapter 13

I worried about it the rest of the afternoon and evening, but when lunchtime of the next day came and he left things alone I let myself relax a little. Amanda and I did have a lot to do to get ready. She didn't have a huge amount of stuff to take with her, but what she was taking would fill the backseat and the trunk of the car. I'd promised her that I could ship things to her if she forgot anything, but this was still a huge deal for her. She'd be sharing a double room with another girl, so while she would have some of her own space, she'd still be sharing most of it, and there was only so much room.

Saturday evening rolled around, and I felt my nerves increasing as the minutes ticked by. I'd managed to avoid Mat the rest of the week. I hadn't gone to the coffee shop, or the gym, and only went out at times that I knew he had to be at work, and when I did go out I didn't go down the main street. It was sad and pathetic, the lengths I went to in order to avoid facing him. And he knew it, too. He had to know it. All I could do was hope that my avoidance wasn't hurting him. I hoped to god it wasn't.

I stood in front of my closet having an internal meltdown, and Amanda came in to supervise my clothing choices. She studied me for a moment, as she had off and on all week, then she crossed her arms and fixed me with her most no-nonsense glare.

"All right, out with it," she demanded.

"Oh god," I whispered, not taking my eyes off the tee shirts. I thought about wearing the VACANT VEIL shirt, but I wasn't that brave. I wasn't going to pretend that everything was all right. I wasn't that good an actor. I wasn't any kind of actor except a terrible one.

"You've been wound up tight all week, Pop," she said with compassion.

"Yes." That had been patently obvious.

She waited, and when I hesitated she pressed, "So?"

"I uh...um...oh lord." I had to tell her. She wasn't a child, even if she was my kid, and she knew something was wrong. Anyone with eyes in their head could tell that much. She waited, and I mumbled, "Mat. I have a huge crush on Mat and maybe I have since the start, and he caught me checking him out at the gym Tuesday and he wanted to talk about it and I freaked out and wouldn't let him but I promised to go tonight and I think I'm going to throw up." My voice rose in pitch the more I went on. Amanda was dead silent, and I squealed, "Say something!"

"Oh," she said in a faint voice. "My. God. Dad."

I made a sound of distress and looked at her, and she was staring at me with huge eyes. "What do I do!" I pleaded.

"You're asking me!" she yelped. "How am I supposed to know!" I made a very un-dadlike whining sound, and she shook her head and looked at me sadly. "Oh Daddy, I'm sorry. I should've known something like that was going on. It's so obvious now, if only I'd had eyes to see." I put my hands over my face, and I felt her hands on my shoulders. "You have to tell him," she counseled.

"I know! I plan to! Right as we're pulling out of the driveway Monday morning!"

"Coward," she accused.

"I know, all right? I'm well aware of it!" Amanda squeezed my shoulders. I appreciated her support, but my distress wasn't any less for it. I lowered my hands and clasped them against my chest. "I  _ have  _ to go tonight. I promised him I would. I can't let him down."

"He isn't going to bring it up in front of everyone. And I'll be there."

I was glad of that. I looked at her gratefully and she smiled at me, but I could tell that this had thrown her for a loop. "I'll get this all straightened out," I said, my tone glum. "I don't want you and Carmensita getting caught in the middle." The two girls had grown close over the course of the summer, and Amanda had sort of taken Carmensita under her wing. She had with Daisy as well, but Mat's daughter lived right next door and really craved the attention of an older female, having no mother, and no memory of one. Amanda was only six years older, but Carmensita really looked up to her. They'd even gone to one of those boy band concerts a little over a week ago; I had taken the girls, though Mat had offered to go with us. We'd only had two tickets, for the girls, but he'd asked if I wanted him to go anyway, saying we could go get dinner and a drink or something, and I'd brushed him off. Again. And then I'd screwed things up even further last Tuesday. It was amazing that he hadn't texted me since then and told me to just forget about open mic night. He was Mat, though. Sweet, gentle Mat.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "There's no middle to get caught in. I'm sure this must be hard, but Mat won't get mad or anything. I think he'd be relieved to know." She lowered her voice and added in disbelief, "I can't believe I didn't pick up on it." Her phone vibrated, and she took it out of her back pocket and looked at it. She stared at it for a moment with an odd expression then began to reply. "Emma P," she explained in a distracted tone. "I already told her I was busy tonight."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. I knew she was only going tonight for my sake.

"No, this is more important," Amanda said firmly. She put the phone away and clapped her hands together. "Alrighty then! Let's get to work."

I put myself in my daughter's capable hands. I was afraid that she would pick out the VACANT VEIL shirt, but she spared me. It was warm out tonight, so she picked out a plain turquoise tee shirt and a coordinating plaid short-sleeved button up, unbuttoned, and khaki shorts and decent shoes. I looked good but not like I was trying too hard. As if it mattered.

My legs started turning to rubber as we walked to the coffee shop. "I can't do this," I whispered.

"You can, and you will," Amanda said firmly, as she put her arm through mine. It might have been for support; it might have been to keep me from running. "Hugo and Damien are going, right? Sit with them. Do uh, either of them know?"

"Damien does. He's been giving me crap about it on the regular since your graduation party." Amanda snickered unhelpfully. 

The Coffee Spoon was packed when we arrived, the busiest I had ever seen it. Carmensita found us immediately, and after doing her complicated ritualized greeting with Amanda the two girls took off, abandoning me.

I whimpered a bit under my breath, scanning the cafe. Mat was nowhere to be seen, or heard. Someone called my name, and I saw a pale, beringed hand waving languidly above the crowd. Oh thank god.

I navigated through the room to Damien and Hugo's table, at the very front of the room. Hugo patted the empty seat between them, over which had been draped a jacket. "Saved you a spot," he said. There was another on the other side of Hugo.

"Thank you," I murmured. I looked at Damien and motioned with my head towards the front door. "Could I, um, talk to you for a minute?"

He rose smoothly then bowed and held out his hand. "After you," he murmured.

We made it outside, and I immediately grabbed his arm and said, "Something bad happened. Something very bad."

He patted my hand. "I'm sure it isn't--"

"Mat caught me checking him out in the gym locker room." Damien grimaced, and I put my hands over my eyes and groaned, "I told you it was bad."

"It isn't  _ that  _ bad," he soothed. "Maybe this is an opportunity to finally have that talk I've been encouraging you to have all summer." I whined into my hands. "Well I highly doubt he reacted poorly."

"No, but…" Ooh, but Damien was going to disapprove. He was going to severely disapprove. "He texted that he wanted to talk and…"

Damien's lips pursed as he slowly shook his head. "And you made up some excuse not to," he said in disapproval. Severe disapproval.

"I deserve your scorn," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, but yes, you most certainly do. For heaven's sake, you could have had this over with and out of the way, and now you're going to be sitting there all night fussing. Just when exactly do you plan to talk this out with him?"

"I was...going to, um...send him a text as Amanda and I are leaving Monday," I said in a rush. Damien's eyes narrowed further as his lips flattened into a line. He was practically oozing disapproval now. "I'm sorry!"

"This has nothing to do with me," he stated, putting a hand on his chest. "You're the one who's driving yourself to distraction with this. You're going to end up having a breakdown."

I frowned at him. "I'm hardly going mad with unrequited longing," I muttered. I loved Damien's flair, but that was a bit  _ too  _ dramatic. I was stressed out, and humiliated. And sad. Sad that a friendship I cherished seemed to be falling apart, because I'd unthinkingly reacted to the sight of him half-clothed and had acted like a creeper. I detested myself for it. But I wasn't losing my mind over this, or having a case of the vapors or whatever they did in Victorian days. This was just all so… ridiculous. Sad and ridiculous. Because of course at this point in my life I had to go and fall for my next door neighbor, in a way I'd never fallen for anyone before, not even Alex. I'd quickly fallen in love with Alex after we started being intimate, but it had taken time to get to even the point of having sex. It felt wrong that this had happened. Maybe Mat and I would be able to laugh about it someday, when we were old men, old neighbors, but I wasn't going to be laughing anytime soon.

My phone pinged. Damien and I looked at each other, and when he lifted an eyebrow I sighed and looked at my phone.

_ MAT: you'd better be here _

_ ME: yes I'm here _

_ MAT: good because I'm totally freaking out those guys that opened for pup are here and wanting to close and the last time they played they nearly got me shut down _

_ MAT: they set something on fire and the fire marshal almost closed me down _

_ MAT: all 17 of them are here and I'm not going to lose my goddamn business because of their shitty performance art _

_ MAT: but I don't know how to tell them to leave without causing a scene _

_ MAT: I don't have another act to put on I don't know what to do _

I looked at the words streaming down my phone with an aching heart. Poor Mat. It was so obvious that he was having a total freakout over this. Of course he didn't want to have to tell those weirdos, all 17 of them, that they couldn't perform at what was supposed to be a free and open venue. I was pretty sure I could see them right now, milling around and looking like they were getting each other pumped up. And Mat was asking  _ me  _ what to do. He was stressed out and was coming to me to make it better. It meant the world to me, that he still wanted that after what I had done.

Well then, there was really only one thing I could do.

_ ME: I'll go in their place _

Mat didn't answer at first. I stared at my words on the screen. The offer had been impulsive, a way to calm him down. I was suddenly, deeply regretting it.

_ MAT: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL GO WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU _

My hands shaking, I texted back.

_ ME: it doesn't matter where I am, I said I'd do it and I will, just find me some keyboards _

_ MAT: YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED IN 20 YRS!!! _

I didn't need that reminder. I didn't know how to play shit anymore, but even if all I did was sort of plunk on the keys and mumble into a mic it would still be better than anything that Jonathan Jones and the Speakeasy Choir had ever done. At least my performance wouldn't set anything on fire, either literally or figuratively.

_ ME: ska will come to me in my hour of need, as it does for everyone _

I tried to be funny and instead just wanted to vomit. Damien looked at me curiously and I choked out, "I'm the closing act."

Oh, fuck me.  _ I was the closing act _ . I was going to pass out.

He gaped at me and squawked, "What?! Do you even know how to play anything?"

"I took years of piano lessons. It'll...it'll come back to me."

"Does it even work like that?"

_ Hell if I know _ , I thought in a panic. "Staccato notes on the upbeat," I muttered to myself, closing my eyes. "How hard can it be?"

I felt hands grip my shoulders and gently turn me around, and when I opened my eyes a tremor went through me to see Mat there. I winced and looked away to the side, anywhere but at his face. He looked so nice tonight. Really nice. His hair was down, and he was wearing a new tee shirt that fit  _ really _ well. He was also pitted out already, the poor guy. He was so stressed out he looked like he was coming apart at the seams.

"What are you doing?" he asked in an incredulous tone. "You don't have to do this!"

"Yes I do," I muttered. "I'm not going to let you down." He made a sound of anguish and let his hands fall. "I just need a keyboard."

"Pablo has one, but...Jesus, Mitchell."

"Unless you know someone else who can play something, I'm it. It doesn't matter how shitty it ends up being. And mark my words, it's going to be shitty. It's going to be a big steaming pile of shit, but at least it won't set your restaurant on fire."

"But...there's got to be something else we can do," he said in a pleading tone. "You haven't played since college."

There was something else I could do: I could sing. God knew I could sing a whole hell of a lot better than I could play. I could do something a cappella and not humiliate myself. I forced myself to look him in the eyes, and he looked back with such a sad, earnest expression. I could see the Speakeasy Choir huddling like a football team in the background, and I said to him, "Tell them the spot's filled. I'll think of something, don't worry. I just don't...want you to worry."

He said in a shaky voice, "You tell me one more time that you're not letting me down and I won't be responsible for what I do." Mat stared at me a bit longer, his expression softening, and when I looked away he blew out a breath in frustration and turned around, heading for the Speakeasy Choir.

I went for the front door, and Damien hurried at my side, asking in disbelief, "College? Are you really going to try to dust off a 20 year dormant skill? Can't you, I don't know...juggle or something?"

"I'll, um...sing instead. I can sing."

"Really? I mean, we all heard you that night with Robert, but…"

"I was incredibly drunk that night. I'm not drunk now. Though I very much wish I was." I had a complicated relationship with singing for other people. I'd been forced to sing every Sunday in church for most of my childhood, and when my voice had changed and settled and it became apparent how good it was my parents had forced me into the church choir. Every week, every wedding, even just when my parents felt like it, I'd had to sing songs to a god I didn't even believe in, on demand, like a trained seal. When they'd found out my senior year that I was fronting a ska band they'd just about gone ballistic. I hadn't really cared. Things were pretty much going to hell in a handbasket by then anyway.

We sat back down, and I saw Amanda in one of the seats. I didn't bother telling her that I was going up there. I didn't want her to try to talk me out of it. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to shock her a little. She knew I could sing, and that Alex and our friends and I had liked to go out for karaoke. This wasn't karaoke. This was madness, but I was committed. I wasn't going to let Mat down.

As Mat went up on the stage to the thunder of applause, Damien leaned close and asked, "Can I tell Hugo? About you and Mat?"

I nodded. What the hell. I was all in, and there was no me and Mat. Hugo might be hurt that I hadn't said anything, but surely he would understand why I hadn't. Craig too. Brian would probably act like he knew it all along, but I hoped it didn't spread to that point. I wanted to contain the damage as much as possible, but I didn't mind if Hugo and Craig knew. I'd tell Craig myself, tomorrow.

I watched Mat talk into the microphone, obviously nervous, as he always was at these things, and yet every month he powered through and hosted this event. It was charming, and admirable. He did it for love of music, and to give the local talent exposure. If I had to expose myself to additional humiliation to make the night a success for him I would.

He looked so good up there though. Handsome. He kept licking his lips and it was distracting as hell, though when he looked at me I had the presence of mind to smile and give him a discreet thumbs up.  _ Be supportive, Mitchell. Don't let him down _ . 

I saw Damien texting Hugo, and Hugo read the text, then he nudged me and spread his hands in a  _ What gives! _ gesture. I grimaced and shrugged and mouthed  _ I'm sorry _ , and Hugo shook his head at me, looking disappointed. He'd get over it.

As the night wound on I felt an eerie calm settle over me. I had somehow managed to pass through anxiety into terror and then into numbness. Numb was good. I could work with numb. Every time Mat met my eyes while on stage I smiled and nodded to him, and it seemed to help his nerves. I refused to look at him when he wasn't on stage, sitting off to the side. I didn't want to see pity or whatever else would be there.

As it grew closer and closer to the end of the show, however, I felt my nerves try to reassert themselves. I took out my phone and looked at the music I had loaded onto it. What could I sing that I knew the lyrics to with ironclad certainty? I knew the lyrics to most of the stuff on my phone, but it had to be something that would sound good a cappella, and after all, I could just pull up the lyrics on my phone anyway.

As the next to the last act began someone squatted down next to my chair. It was Mat. And he was much too close.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to say something but only a hiss of air came out.

Mat frowned and leaned closer. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do. I'm going to. I'm not…"

"Not going to let me down," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. Shit." His hand fell. "Pablo said you can use his keyboards."

"I won't need them."

Mat blinked as his mouth moved wordlessly for several seconds. "I'm...sorry, what?"

"Just a microphone and...and maybe a stool so I don't fall over." He slowly shook his head, his expression one of painful confusion. I nearly told him that he could always get up there and play, being the one who was once a professional musician and all, but I wasn't cruel. I wasn't going to put that on him. I was doing this so that he didn't have to. I wasn't the one with an anxiety disorder. This was just regular, garden variety anxiety.

"Okay," he said with a whisper. He laid his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate the hell out of this, you know that, right?"

I nodded, and he gazed at me with such a sweet expression, one that I wished meant something. His eyes wandered over my face and I had to look away before I started to scowl, angry with myself. I didn't deserve his kindness after making such a mess of things and gawking at him like some kind of pervert on Tuesday.

"Stick around after the show?" he asked. "I could use some help cleaning up."

"Sure!" I blurted. "No problem!" As if I didn't know the real reason. My heart rate started to climb again and I closed my eyes and did some breathing exercises to force it back down. Mat sighed and gave my shoulder another squeeze then got up and left. So he wanted to talk tonight. Sure. What the hell. Just get it over with. Get it all out there.

I tried to get back the calm that I'd felt earlier and was only partially successful. None of the songs I had on my phone seemed right. And if we were going to talk after this, maybe… maybe I should just bite the bullet and sing something meaningful. I'd spent all week planning what I was going to tell him in that text Monday morning, something flippant, something to make it seem like it was just a harmless infatuation. He deserved better than that. He deserved the truth. Maybe I couldn't bring myself to mention the L word, but he deserved to know what he meant to me, and how wonderful I thought he was.

What if…

I bit my lip and watched Mat go back to his seat at the side of the stage. What if I used his own words to tell him?

I pulled up an old fansite for Stillness the Dancing, the most detailed one I could find, the one I had bookmarked. I had most of their songs memorized. They'd never gotten a recording deal, Rosa getting pregnant right before they were about to make it big, but there was plenty of bootleg content out there, and lyrics.

I texted Amanda quickly.

_ ME: do you have earbuds with you _

She looked at me quizzically across the table but nodded and dug them out and slid them over to me. I plugged them into my phone and got to work picking out a song.

All right. I could do this. I'd listen to the video of the song on one tab to give me the pitch and have the lyrics on the other so I didn't screw them up. This was just like karaoke. I'd sung in big bars in Boston without any issue, in front of a lot more people than this. Except I was going to be singing something in front of the man I had grown to care for, singing words that he had written over a decade ago for the woman he'd loved. 

_ Don't go there. Just like karaoke _ .

I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my wrist as I narrowed down my choices. Yeah, this one would be nice. It had an easy pace, simple but sweet lyrics. All I had to do was change the gender of the subject of the song, something I usually did anyway when I sang. Totally manageable.

The comedy act left the stage, and I listened with only half an ear as Mat introduced me as his friend. Yes, I was his friend, and he was mine. Anyone should be so lucky as to have a friend like Mat Sella. He had been so supportive since I moved in, so kind, gently stubborn when he'd needed to be. It wasn't the end of the world that I cared for him and he didn't return my feelings. It was enough that we were friends, and once we cleared the air between us and I assured him that my attraction to him didn't change anything we could move on and maybe be better friends, the way he'd wanted to be all along. It would be good. Everything would work out.

"Dad!" Amanda cried in shock as I got up and went to the stage.

Maybe I should've warned her. Hugo's mouth fell open as he stared at me like I had two heads. Damien was grinning from ear to ear, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, nodding supportively, getting far too big a kick out of this. 

Wow, the lights were...really bright. _Look out over their heads._ _Don't focus on any one face_.

"Hey, I'm um…" I coughed into my fist. "Mitchell Rivera, but you can call me by my stage name of… uhhh....just Mitchell." There was scattered, polite clapping. I sat down on the stool and picked up the microphone off the stand. "I'm…" I cleared my throat as I put in one ear bud.  _ Keep it together, Mitchell _ . "I'm going to be doing an a cappella piece by one of my favorite artists. Let's uh, see if everyone knows this one."

"Yeah, Just Mitchell!" Amanda's cry rang through the room. "Woo!" Hugo added to it by putting his fingers to his lips and letting out an ear-piercing whistle that cut through the near silence. I smiled gratefully at them both.

Okay. I could do this.

It took me a few notes to get the pitch right, but I closed my eyes and shut everyone out, focusing just on the music and Mat's voice, his guitar and Rosa's piano and her harmonies. It was such a pretty song, not my absolute favorite of theirs but one I found fitting, a sweet happy love song. I thought I sounded all right. I sang a lot at home and in the car. I would've sounded better with some warming up, but I was getting this done without completely shaming myself and my daughter. I wasn't going to let Mat down. His coffee shop would survive the night unburnt and still open for business come Monday.

I got into it though, and maybe I was even kind of enjoying myself, so when the crowd started cheering I mentally patted myself on the back for a solid performance. But… there seemed to be a lot more guitar than there was before. And there was a male voice added to Rosa's harmony in my ear.

My eyes flew open as I realized someone was playing next to me on stage. It was a bridge section, so I didn't miss any lyrics. I sucked in a shaky breath and looked up to see Mat there with a guitar. He looked sweaty, really sweaty, but he was smiling, a sweet warm smile with shining brown eyes. I loved him so much at that moment. I couldn't believe he had done this. I knew how anxious he was about playing for anyone but Carmensita. Rosa's death had ruined the experience for him. He'd told himself for so long that she was the one who had held everything together, that he couldn't perform without her. This was just… I was so happy for him right then, that he felt that he could finally do this.

When the song ended the crowd went wild then began chanting Mat's name. I stood and put the mic back on the stand, and before I could move away Mat pulled me into a hug by the back of my neck, holding the guitar off to the side. We were both very moist, and very funky, but I was more than glad to return the gesture.

"I can't believe you," Mat murmured, touched. "That was...just…"

"It was nothing. Glad I could help," I replied. I was starting to get really choked up. I was also very aware that we were still on stage. I drew back and smiled at him as best I could. The crowd was still chanting his name. "They want to hear you play. And so do I."

Mat stared at me for a few seconds then nodded and smiled, a big broad beautiful smile that brought out his perfect dimples. "Yeah, I think I can do that. Thanks to you."

I felt myself blushing and waved him off then left the stage. It had nothing to do with me, other than him wanting to rescue me from the situation.

As I sat down my friends both gently roughed me up and congratulated me, and Amanda was wiggling happily in her chair, looking proud of me, but I only had eyes for Mat. He was still smiling at me as he took a seat on the stool and adjusted the microphones.

"Hey everybody," he said. Everyone cheered. "It's uh...been a long time. A really long time. It's good to be back though. I, uh...couldn't have done this without the support of a, um, really good friend. This is for him."

Friend. There was that word again. Well, it wasn't a bad word. It was a pretty good word, in fact. Still, what I wouldn't give to have him call me something else. Alex had called me Babe, or Sweetheart, or Papi. I'd called him Love, or Alex Honey. I would've liked to call Mat those things.  _ Mat honey. Hey, love _ . Ah well. I would take what I could get, even if I felt my heart breaking a little bit right then.

He launched into one of his band's old songs, a sweet, intricate melody, and when he started to sing I felt my throat start to close up. He had such a lovely voice, every bit as lovely as it had been 10 years ago. As he played his eyes kept searching out mine, and I tried, I tried so hard to smile and not start crying. What must it feel like, to have someone sing to you like that? To know someone had written songs for you? I couldn't imagine, and I would never find out.

He played a few songs and each time the crowd cheered and shot to their feet. God, he was just so talented. He was amazing. He looked so at home up there, no sign of anxiety at all. I thought he might play maybe one more song, but he did several, and you never would have guessed that it had been so many years since he'd performed. I knew he played at home, for his daughter, but he was so secretive about it that I'd never caught more than the occasional faint sound of guitar coming from his house.

I thought he was done, and the cheering died off, but Mat stayed where he was, shifting on the stool.

"I uh, have just one more," he said into the mic. "This one, it…" He hesitated. "It means a lot to me, just like the person I wrote it for. I hope you like it."

I leaned my elbows on the table and clasped my hands in front of my mouth as he began to play a song I'd never heard before. It was a song about someone special to him, someone he was waiting for, someone sweet, someone he thought worth the wait. Rosa, obviously. I thought I'd heard everything from Stillness the Dancing, but this didn't sound familiar at all. Maybe it was one he'd written for her early on and had kept between them. It was beautiful though, god it was, and I couldn't help getting teary-eyed as he played and sang and smiled at me. I couldn't return the smile. It was all I could do not to start bawling. The song was upbeat, but full of emotion, with a wonderfully catchy chorus. Rosa had been so lucky to have Mat's love as long as she had. She must have been an incredibly special woman to have the love of a man like him.

The song ended and everyone went wild again, and he thanked everyone for coming out and rose to put the guitar away but was mobbed by the crowd. I was sure he hated it, but he had to have known it was coming.

I took the opportunity and got up and walked right out of the Coffee Spoon, ignoring Hugo and Damien when they called for me. A few people slapped me on the arm on the way out and I nodded and hoped they didn't see my tears. I just felt so...so utterly miserable at that moment. It felt like a 50 pound weight was sitting on my chest and a fist was closed around my throat. 

I loved him. After tonight I knew that without a doubt, and how did one get over that? How in the hell was I supposed to deal with this?


	14. Chapter 14

 

I sat down on a bench outside the shop and leaned over and put my head in my hands, trying to collect myself. All I wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed and cry. This was so unfair, so fucking unfair. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I'd rather be lonely and missing Alex than have to live with a one-sided love.

Damien had been so right, back in June: I was pining. I was most definitely pining. I had never actually  _ pined  _ before, and it felt horrible.

Someone sat down next to me, and I feared it was Mat until someone sat down on the other side too and I smelled Damien's cologne. "I'm not signing any autographs," I muttered into my hands.

"God Mitchell, just tell him," Hugo sighed in sympathy, leaning against my shoulder.

"I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"

Damien counseled, "I really don't think he's going to take it poorly. In fact...well, just talk to him. After everyone goes." I nodded, my head still in my hands.

Hugo murmured, "I didn't realize it was this bad. I didn't have a clue you were attracted to him at all, let alone...more than that."

Oh, it was definitely more than that, but all I could do was grunt into my hands. A handkerchief was fluttered along my arm, and I mumbled my thanks and took it and wiped my eyes and blew my nose. I had to get myself together before Mat saw me. I didn't want him to feel bad, or pity me any further, because he was going to feel really damn sorry for me once I was done explaining things.

I heard Damien's phone vibrate, and he took it out of his pocket. He read the message then responded, back and forth for a bit, then put it back. "Lucien," he explained. I nodded and he sighed and rubbed my back. "You know, things are going to be okay either way, friend."

"There is no either way," I whispered. I looked at the handkerchief and it was fine linen, embroidered with an elaborate DB that was now smeared with my snot. "I'm sorry, I'll wash this," I promised.

"Please, that's the last thing you should be worrying about right now. You shouldn't be worrying at all."

"Right," I scoffed.

Hugo stated, "Mat's the nicest guy I know, and that isn't an exaggeration. I don't know what kind of scenario you're cooking up in your head, but it won't go down like that, I promise you."

"I just never wanted it to come to this at all." 

"You ah, do know that he hasn't played for anyone but Carmensita since Rosa died, right?"

"I'd gotten that idea."

"I'm just saying, maybe he--" I felt Damien reach across my back and poke Hugo.

I could feel fresh tears coming, and I begged, "I can't talk about this anymore. Please guys. I can't. I'm supposed to help him clean up and I know he wants to talk while we're doing it and I'm about two seconds away from breaking my promise to him and going home."

Damien patted my back and said, "All right." Hugo did as I asked and fell silent as well.

I somehow collected myself, even while I felt so sad that all I wanted to do was go home and eat half a pie and take a bath in the dark and go to bed.

The crowd spilled out of the Coffee Spoon then started to disperse, most of the people talking excitedly about Mat's performance. I hoped he'd be able to do more of them. Maybe I'd even be able to watch someday without feeling like I was coming apart at the seams.

I felt somewhat more put together when I saw Mat come out with Amanda and Carmensita. Mat was talking to my daughter while pulling out his wallet, and I saw him hand her some money as he spoke. What on earth was he giving her money for? She and Carmensita looked my direction and I sighed heavily and put my head in my hands again. I had the beginnings of a headache, but if I didn't get any more upset it might go away. The odds of me finishing the night without further upset were pretty slim, though.

"Hey Pop," Amanda said, her tone gentle. "Carmensita and I are going to go get ice cream. Is it okay if she sleeps over?"

I sighed, "Honey, I don't know if that's a good idea. I'm not feeling well."

"We'll be super quiet," Carmensita promised. "Won't we, Amanda?"

"Absolutely," she vowed. "You won't even know we're there." Carmensita snorted.

I couldn't say no to both girls, and I nodded and mumbled, "Sure sweetie. I'll um...maybe we can make blueberry pancakes in the morning." One last special breakfast at home before we left for Chicago.

"If it works out," she said mysteriously. "If not, no big deal. We can handle it."

I didn't have the energy to sort that out, and she kissed the top of my head then the girls headed off towards the ice cream shop a couple blocks away, which was open late in the summers. It was so kind of my daughter to take Carmensita out tonight. The ice cream must have been what Mat was giving her money for. I wondered if it was his idea. Amanda wouldn't have taken the money otherwise.

I heard Mat's voice approaching, talking to a few stragglers, then Damien murmured to me, "It'll be all right, Mitchell. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it will."

"If you say so," I muttered. I felt him rise then Hugo squeezed my knee and did the same. "I appreciate everything, you guys," I stated. "I really do."

"We know," Damien said. 

Hugo said, "If we don't see you before you leave Monday, have a good trip, all right?"

Damien added, "And drive carefully."

I nodded and mumbled, "I will. Thank you." It would be good to get out of town for a week. Get away from whatever mess I would be leaving behind. I had no reason to hurry back after dropping off Amanda. It was the height of summer, but I was paying Daisy to come water my plants every morning while I was gone, and I didn't have any pets. Yet. I definitely needed to get a cat or two at some point, to keep me company. Something to give me a reason to get up in the mornings.

I heard Hugo and Damien compliment Mat then leave, and it was quiet for several seconds before I heard footsteps approaching. I immediately shot to my feet and avoided his eyes as I moved around him, shoving the handkerchief in my pocket. "I'll start inside," I whispered, and went into the Coffee Spoon with all possible haste, hearing him sigh heavily behind me.

He spared me The Talk while we cleaned up inside, sweeping the floor and stacking chairs. I kept a very distinct zone of personal space around me, though that was impossible to maintain when it came time to load the stage equipment into Mat's van. Pablo's car was parked next to it and he was selling tee shirts out of his trunk with his usual flair for showmanship. I had to admit they were fantastic shirts, the quality every bit as fine as he claimed, with very cool designs. The kid had a bright future.

Mat told him goodnight and locked up the van and we went back inside, and when he began turning out all the lights was when my pulse started to pound again. There wasn't much left to do in here other than for him to empty the till and lock it in the safe. I leaned against the counter and stared at the framed Coffee Spoon guy on the wall, barely visible in the now-dark shop. Oh, how long ago that seemed. It had been a more innocent time.

And then it was silent, other than the sound of Mat fidgeting behind the counter. I could hear him playing with the beaded bracelet on his wrist, his thumb flicking across it. He asked, "Do you uh, want to go get something to eat? The diner maybe?"

I shook my head and whispered, "No thank you. I'm not hungry." I sure as hell didn't want to have The Talk in a brightly-lit public space.

He was quiet for a while before speaking again. "I... _ really _ ...had no idea you could sing like that."

I let out the breath that I'd been holding. "Apparently I'm full of surprises," I said in a tight voice. He grumbled, and I said with less bitterness, "You sounded really...um, great. I'm glad…" I folded my arms and hunched in on myself. "I'm glad it worked out. That you felt you could."

"I, uh...thought I was kind of...uh...clear about why that was," he said haltingly.

I nodded and stood away from the counter with my back to him, my arms still folded tightly. "Glad I could help out a friend."

Mat blew out a short breath and muttered, "Man, you are just really not going to make this easy, are you."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I knew what I had to say, and it was nearly impossible to start the confession. As if he didn't know. Why put us both through this torture if he already knew?

"I haven't played for anyone but my daughter since Rosa died. Even with Carmensita…I didn't touch a guitar for over a year after Rosa passed." Mat's voice had a touch of desperation to it. Or maybe he was just irritated by this dance I kept doing. I knew it was exhausting me, so it couldn't be pleasant for him either. He went on, "I've never been all that comfortable playing in front of crowds, even if I loved the playing part. Rosa though, she craved it. Extrovert with a capital E. She lit up every room she was in, on stage or not."

I nodded and whispered, "That was Alex." Alex hadn't been the most handsome guy, but to me he had been the most wonderful thing in the world, so charming and vivacious, so friendly and giving and funny. 

"And he carried you along," he said in understanding. "When I had Rosa, even before we started seeing each other...the music just came out, and I could manage. I felt like...like she was always in my corner, you know? I knew that no matter what happened she had my back. That... that she'd never let me down. And she never did. That was why so much of what I wrote later on was for her. The happy songs, anyway."

"They're beautiful songs," I murmured with all honesty.

"Yeah, you uh…" Mat laughed, sounding uncertain. "One of your favorite artists? Really?"

I felt my face grow hot. "I'm sorry. I found all the videos online and everything, I mean, it isn't like I had to look that hard."

"No no, I'm… Wow. Really flattered. You did that song justice. Seriously."

"Thank you," I whispered. I rubbed my eyes then kept my hand there. "Look...Mat, I really need to--"

"Did you like the last song?"

"Yes?" What on earth did that have to do with anything?

"Oh. Um...good." He sounded disappointed.

"I hadn't heard it before," I mumbled. I had to give him something. "It was, I mean, it was really touching. Pretty. I um, really liked the chorus." I heard him come out from behind the counter, and I sighed and took my hand from my eyes to stare out the front door. I wasn't sure how I felt about the girls walking around this late at night. There were still a lot of people out and about though--I could see them walking by--and Amanda was smart and would keep Carmensita close to her. Maybe they were home by now, though. I had no idea what time it was. I said in a distracted tone, "Rosa must have really loved it. It was beautiful."  _ Like you _ .

"Rosa never heard it." His voice sounded from right next to me, a little shaky, and much too close.

I frowned. "Oh. Well that's a uh, shame?" I shook my head and tried to start again. "Look, about the other day," I began, my voice cracking.

"I just wrote that song. I hadn't written anything in 10 years, but...yeah. I sat down and I wrote that song, just two weeks ago."

I felt my heart turn over in my chest.

No.

_ It means a lot to me, just like the person I wrote it for _ .

He'd looked at me the whole time he played it. Smiled at me the whole time. The song had been about waiting for someone he cared about to notice how he felt, and waiting for them to be ready to be loved again. Realizing  _ he  _ was ready to be loved again.

No. Nonononono. That...that just wasn't possible. I huffed in disbelief, afraid to look at him. I couldn't even put my thoughts in order so I could formulate some kind of response.  _ Impossible _ . This was utterly impossible.

He said with a hint of quaver in his voice, "Ever since Rosa died, I've been...stuck. Like...like I was in some kind of stasis. I couldn't play for anyone anymore. Couldn't write. Couldn't move on. I just kept going, in the same old rut, year after year after year. Then... _ you _ came. When the cherry tree was blooming."

I put my hand over my mouth, tears touching my eyes at his sweet words. This couldn't be true. This couldn't be real.

"I saw someone who was still hurting so much. Who hadn't had any of the help I had. That I've had all along. And you just kept pushing yourself, and beating yourself up, and I couldn't stand it. You were still suffering and yet you kept putting yourself out there to help everyone else, especially me. Over and over again you were there for me, without expecting anything in return. All the times I saw you hurting and I wanted to help, I wanted so bad to fix things for you, and… and then you brought me soup."

"Soup?" I whispered.

"It was damn good soup."

I couldn't laugh. This just… I didn't see how he could be saying what it seemed he was saying.

Mat went on, "I was standing there drowning in my own snot, looking and feeling like shit, and you still looked at me like...like I was something special. And I couldn't believe I hadn't figured it out before that. How it was. I felt like an idiot for not seeing it. But you never did anything about it, and I figured… maybe you just weren't ready for that. Or felt weird about us being neighbors. So I left it alone and just...waited. Until last Tuesday."

"Oh god," I croaked. "I'm so sorry." My face was so hot I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.

"I'm not. It...uh...kind of…helped me see what the problem was?"

I grunted and put my hand over my eyes, wishing a giant hand would grab me around the ankles and pull me under the floorboards.

Mat said with a touch of amusement, "You know, I ah...I wasn't always with Rosa. It wasn't like I slept around or anything, but there were others before her, and they weren't all women. For me, it's always been the person, not the gender. I know there wasn't any way for you to know that, but...there it is."

My eyes shot open and I took my hand down. I held it over my mouth in a fist, stunned. Disbelieving.

Mat liked men. He'd been with men. I hadn't had any idea at all. Of anything. His preferences, how he felt about me...none of it.

I'd put myself through all this crap all summer for  _ nothing _ . And that wasn't Mat's fault. I didn't blame him at all. I didn't really blame myself either. There didn't need to be any blame assigned to anyone, but...Christ, what a waste.

"So I guess what I'm saying is… It's been a really long time. Since I've felt like this about someone. Or felt anything at all. And it feels good, and maybe it should scare the shit out of me, but...it doesn't, because it's you. And I'm hoping that uh, that you'll give this a chance and stop running away from it. From me."

_ This was real _ . 

Mat came around to stand in front of me and hesitated with his hands raised before putting them on my upper arms. I knew I looked terrified. And I was.

"Hey hey," he gently chided, rubbing his thumbs against my skin. "You look like you're going to bolt. You don't have to be so scared of this. Of me. I want this." He laughed uncertainly. "I don't write songs about my neighbors every day, you know?"

I made a terribly undignified whimpering sound and pulled him into a hug and held onto him for dear life, near tears. He let out a shaky breath of relief and held on tight, burying his face in my neck. We were both sweaty and smelly from an intensely stressful evening, but for the first time I felt a spark of hope. Hope that things really would work out. That I wouldn't grow old alone.

But I just...I couldn't believe this was real. Mat wanted to be with me. Me. The most boring person I knew. My voice cracking, "I don't know why you'd want someone like me, when you're just so..." Talented. Handsome. And I wasn't. I couldn't imagine what on earth he saw in me. I wasn't the kind of man anyone wrote songs about. And yet, inexplicably, Mat had.

"I thought I made it pretty obvious why," he said with a smile in his voice. "Maybe I'll have to write you another song to clear things up." I just held him more tightly. He rubbed my back and softly said, "It's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"I can't believe you thought I was dating Hugo." The words slipped out, and he laughed loudly then and leaned back enough to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, I wasn't the only one. Brian thought so too." He laughed again. "You've got to admit, Vega's a fine looking man." I rolled my eyes, and Mat grasped the front of my overshirt. "Not as fine as you, though." I shook my head and looked away. He gently tugged on my shirt and leaned in as if to kiss me but stopped just short of doing so. "This okay?" he murmured.

I nodded and whispered, "Yeah." He kissed me, just the lightest touch of his lips against mine, and I felt a swell of want that was so intense it was overwhelming. I'd only ever wanted Alex like this, and some kernel of guilt tried to rear its ugly head and tell me I was betraying his memory. I ignored it. Alex never would have wanted me to be alone. No one who truly loved someone else would want that, and Alex really had loved me. Maybe someday Mat would too.

He deepened the kiss, and I thought I would drown in those lips. Everything about him was soft and sweet, his touch so gentle and hesitant. I was so afraid though to do anything, to go too far. This still didn't seem real.

Mat leaned into me and my back bumped against the counter, and when his hands slid down to grab my waist and he pressed against me I could feel a growing hardness against me that made this suddenly very, very real. He  _ did  _ want me. This wasn't pity, or him just trying to comfort a friend. I could feel how much he wanted me. Me of all people.

He whispered against my lips, "We could take this back to my place, if you want."

God, I wanted that more than anything. "But the girls--"

He laughed, "The girls aren't coming anywhere near my house tonight."

"Oh," I whispered in realization. I couldn't imagine what he'd told Carmensita, because surely he hadn't told her that he'd planned for me to stay over. She was only 11. Amanda would get it even if he hadn't come out and said it, though. I didn't fool myself that he'd orchestrated any of this very far ahead of time. He'd probably just...hoped. It was so goddamn sweet I wanted to cry.

Mat took my hand and started backing towards the door, and I followed, my emotions a jumble that couldn't really be sorted out. I wanted him so much, and god I loved him, but I knew if we slept together that I'd love him even more, and I was scared to death.

My fear must have been obvious on my face, because he shook his head and said, "I won't change my mind."

"It isn't that," I said in a rough voice. Not much, anyway.

We went outside, and the cooler night air was a welcome change. He let go of me and got out his keys to lock up the cafe. "I'm serious about this," he murmured. "About you. About us." He must have heard me letting out a tense breath; he quietly said, "I've put a lot of thought into this. Into, um...how it's going to be, or...how I want it anyway. Whatever you're worried about, we can work through it, I promise."

"Okay," I whispered, my reservations fading. He really meant this. He was serious. About me. About being with me. He took my hand again as we walked to his van, and it took all my willpower to not look around to see if anyone was watching, if only because it was Mat. Pablo was gone, along with his wares. I wondered where the girls were. I wondered again what Mat had told his daughter. Maybe I should text Amanda. Tell her I wasn't coming home tonight.

Dear god, what was she going to think when I came home in the morning? What was Carmensita going to think? I wasn't too worried about Amanda; she was legally an adult and wise for her years, and she had grown up with two dads who loved each other very much. We'd been as discreet as any other average married couple, and to her we were just her dads. But this was Mat. Our next door neighbor. Carmensita's dad.

Mat unlocked the passenger door to the van, and he took one look at my face and said with patient amusement, "You know, I really do think it's cute how you mull things over, but I wish you'd chill just a bit. You're going to hurt yourself, thinking this hard."

"It's just...the girls. I don't know what to tell the girls. What uh...what  _ did  _ you tell the girls?"

"I texted Amanda during the show and asked if she'd take Carmensita for the night so you and I could talk and work things out. Carmensita just knows that I really like you and was going to ask you out and that we might be up late talking, so you might just stay over. We'll just...work out the rest as we go." He hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. "That is...if that's okay. Maybe...maybe this is moving too fast. For you. I uh, could see why maybe this might be too much too soon and maybe this is kind of overwhelming considering how things were up until a few minutes ago--"

I made a sound of refusal and took him by the back of the neck and kissed him. Now  _ I _ was the one scaring  _ him _ , and I hated it. I never wanted him to be afraid, of anything, and certainly not because of me. Mat grabbed me by the hips and pressed me against the door of the van. We were making out in an alley against the side of a van. It made me feel like I was in high school again, in a good way. Like I was young again. It was marvelous. I hadn't actually done anything like this in high school, to be honest, but it was the thought that counted.

He made a sound of frustration and leaned down to kiss my neck as his hand slid up my shirt. "This really isn't the right place for this," he whispered against my skin.

I grunted in response, unable to come up with anything more than that. His house was so close, just around the corner, and yet to get there we'd have to let go of each other and get in the van. That seemed a nearly impossible task at the moment. He felt so good against me, with his hand on my skin, and even if we both needed a shower, he was warm and alive, and...mine? He might actually be mine. I wasn't alone anymore. Maybe.

_ Just stop it, Mitchell. He wrote a song for you. About you. Everything will be okay _ .

That was the sensible voice talking, the louder voice, not the quiet, insidious one that was never silent for long. I trusted Mat. He was kind, and gentle, and if he thought this would work then I had to trust that he meant it and wouldn't be easily scared off. I'd just have to be careful. To not be too intense. To not cling. Ease into it. Not overwhelm him with how I knew I could be at times. Feel things out.

Mat lifted his head and kissed me again then put his hands on my chest and made a visible effort to step away. He lifted the keys and jingled them as he smiled at me. "Going home," he stated.

"Yes," I agreed. I turned away to get in the van, and that seemed to spur him to go around and get in the other side. I fastened my seat belt, no easy task when I was half-hard. He started the van, and I kept my eyes forward, silently taking myself in hand and trying to stay positive.

_ Mat wants this. Mat wants  _ me _. Mat wrote a song for  _ me _. Mat said he really likes me. But I love him and-- No, don't go there. He said we could work out any worries I have. He's serious about this. About me. About us. He said there's an us _ .

Mat pulled out of the alley behind the shop then headed towards our street. "Hey," he murmured. I nodded but didn't look at him. "Hey," he repeated, his voice softening further. He reached over and took my hand and pulled it over to rest on his thigh, keeping hold of it, rubbing his thumb against my skin. "I know this is a lot to uh, take in. Considering."

"You have no idea," I whispered. And I was terrified that if he knew,  _ really  _ knew, how I felt, how I was, that he'd run screaming the other way. Or at least start edging away from me very carefully while kindly breaking it off.

"Well maybe...try? To give me some."

I laughed and shook my head. I hated how my laugh sounded, so self-deprecating, a little bitter. I leaned my elbow on the window and put my hand over my mouth, waiting for his hand to let go of mine, but it didn't. It was damp, and his thumb kept moving across the back of my hand, like he was trying to soothe himself as much as he was me.

"Could you just try?" he murmured. "Please?"

_ Just say it. Get it out there. _ And how could I not do as he asked, when he asked like that?

"I uh...Christ," I choked. "This is hard."

"Yeah, I can see that. But I'm not going anywhere."

"You might."

Mat grumbled. "Yeah, well I don't think so. You might want to give me a little more credit than that."

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be."

I swallowed, my throat dry. We were nearly to the entrance to the cul-de-sac. "I...have some issues." I waited for him to say that so did he, but he didn't. He stayed silent and drove, letting me talk. Well, if he wanted to know what he was dealing with, he was going to get it. Maybe it was better this way. Just get it all out there and let the chips fall where they may. "I've been, um, fighting depression ever since I was in middle school. Nothing I ever did was good enough. For them."

"Your parents."

"Yeah," I whispered, then I went on with resentment, "My three older brothers were just so… fucking manly, you know? Into all the sports. Into cars. Into girls. Into competing. I liked dancing, and painting, and music, and flowers, and cooking, and quiet things. And my father just...watched me, ever since I was little. Like he knew, he just...knew. And my mother went along with it, once he started cracking down on it. On me. It had been one thing for me to bake and garden with her before I started school, when I was little, but after that? I'd hear them fighting about it, about me, when I was in grade school, and then one day it just...stopped. When I was maybe nine, I think. And things just went...cold. They got me piano lessons, painting lessons, and I enjoyed those, but to have those things I had to play sports, and go fishing and hunting with my dad and brothers. But no more snuggling with my mother. No more baking or gardening, and there would sure as hell not be any more dancing around the house, and no more singing except in church. And things sort of just went downhill from there."

Mat was quiet, but I could feel his hand slowly tightening around mine and growing hotter and sweatier as I spoke. I hadn't meant for all that to spill out, especially now, when we were going to his house to spend the night together. Nothing like whining about one's shitty childhood to throw ice cold water on the mood.

I went on in a strained voice, "So I...just never feel like I'm ever enough. Or can do enough. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not anywhere near as much as when I was younger, before Alex, and… and quite a few years of therapy in my mid-thirties. And I was okay, for a long time. Until Alex died, and...and I was all Amanda had, and I felt like it was never enough. We had some friends who tried to help, but… but you know, you  _ know  _ that I'm not good at accepting help, or asking for help. It took years of Alex nudging me before I agreed to therapy, so... I'm really not good at taking help, and so they just sort of stopped trying except for a few who still look in us, on Amanda mostly, and I don't blame them for that." We turned into our street. "So I guess I'm…" My voice cracked as we approached our houses. The lights were on inside mine. "The girls are home," I said in relief.

"Looks that way," he murmured.

A tremor went through me as I wondered if they had seen us. Me and Mat. Making out. Dear god, I hoped they hadn't seen that. It had been dark inside the coffee shop, but not as dark as I would have liked in the alley. The cleanup had taken some time though, so they'd probably been well on their way home before anything serious had started.

We pulled into his driveway, and he let go of my hand to put the van in park and turn off the ignition. He reached out and grabbed my hand again to stop its retreat then pulled it into his lap, taking it in both hands this time. "You were saying," he prompted. "So you guess you…"

_ Tell him now. Before you go inside. At least this way if he runs you can just step out of the van and go home. He won't have to throw you out of his house. _

"I--" God, my throat was dry. "I'm just saying...saying that I'm not entirely...well. I never have been, and I never will be, and maybe… I'm just saying… I wouldn't...blame you. If… Well, I wouldn't blame you." I could feel my throat tightening up.

"I'm not changing my mind," Mat stated, his voice soft but firm. Unyielding.

My voice quavering, I said, "You've seen. What I'm like. And I tried very hard to not let you see even that much."

"Yeah, I know. I saw. I saw someone who cares so damn much that it just about kills them. You didn't want me to see because you didn't want to burden me, or think you were messed up--"

"But I am."

He shook his head. "I don't care."

That...wasn't what I had expected. At all. I hadn't expected him to just come out and acknowledge it. He didn't even try to deny it.

Mat held onto my hand and muttered, "So yeah, I've seen. I spent the last four months seeing. How loyal you are to anyone who bothers to reach back the other way. How much love you pour on your daughter, and all the love you gave to Alex that didn't have anywhere to go after he passed. And it made me mad that Hugo wasn't doing what he should, that he had someone like you with so much to give and it seemed like it was just...going to waste. And then like an idiot I got pissed off at him after the graduation party, and he told me you two were just friends, and then you left town with Craig and I went down to see my folks and I just...stewed over it. Over the whole damn situation." 

He lifted my hand and kissed it then lowered it to his thigh again as he confessed, "I...liked you. A lot. Already. It took me a while to see it for what it was, just because it had been so damn long, but I knew for sure that night… The night you came over for dinner. After I got you out of bed. I saw you at the table playing with Carmensita while I was making dinner and all I could think was how good it felt. To have you there. It felt  _ right _ . Whatever was there before just… gelled. And I knew you weren't with Hugo, or anyone else, but you didn't seem to want me either, but then you brought me the soup, and looked at me that way, and got flustered and ran off, and I felt like a fool for not realizing that you'd been giving off signs from nearly the start, but you still seemed to be hurting too much and so I left it alone. I wasn't going to push if you weren't ready. I was just going to...wait." He let out a low laugh that was much too sexy. "Until last Tuesday."

I closed my eyes and winced, while tightening my hold on his hand. I couldn't believe the words I was hearing him say, and yet he was saying them, a lot of words, and...they helped. They helped a lot. I could feel myself calming as he spoke.

Mat laughed again at my reaction, more loudly. "I was so mad at you for brushing me off, dude, you have no idea."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

He clucked his tongue and let go of my hand to reach out and cup my head and pull me over for a kiss. "It didn't last long," he promised. His thumb rubbed against my hair. There was enough light from his outside lights and the street lights to see by, and his expression was warm. "I was as mad at myself as I was at you. For not figuring out where the disconnect was. That look you gave me was so full of want, and so damn sad, and then you looked so guilty and angry with yourself for it when I caught you, and I was just reeling, realizing that you really did want me and were scared I wouldn't want you back. Or would be offended or whatever. I guess it just didn't… click until then. That you assumed I was straight, because I was married to Rosa. There wasn't any reason you wouldn't think that, but I felt like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner." He leaned in and kissed me again. "So here we are."

"Yes," I said with a nod, my heart aching so much I could hardly stand it. I'd had no idea. No idea at all. Not until a little bit ago, and now… He really was serious about this. Everything he had just said, as bewildering as it still was, had finally driven that home. I could hardly believe it.

He kissed me once more then leaned back and took the key out of the ignition. "We could just lay together and talk," he said in a reassuring tone. "I'm good with that too."

"We could," I replied uncertainly.

"Or we could uh, take a shower and see what happens, and  _ then  _ lay in bed and talk, because I don't know about you but I'm a hot mess right now."

My voice rough, I murmured, "I like that idea better." I refrained from saying just what a smelly, sweaty disaster I also was, because he surely knew, and I wasn't inflicting that on anyone, let alone him. The idea of fooling around in my current state was just… No. So much no.

Mat grinned at me then got out of the van, and I followed suit, trying not to get nervous. Trying and failing. I looked at my house and tried to determine if the girls were spying through the blinds and curtains, and I nearly stepped away from the van to check out Hugo and Damien's houses as well, but Mat came around and took my hand and gave it a tug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My art! I traced the hands from a reference sketch, and the entire thing took me two days to do, but the bracelets and tattoos were done freehand and don't look terrible?
> 
> Next chapter is where the M rating comes in. Nothing graphic (I don't do graphic, because I'm a weenie). Thank you to everyone who read this far. I usually write in a fantasy setting (Skyrim or Dragon Age), so doing something 'real world' was a challenge.


	15. Chapter 15

Mat unlocked his house and pulled me inside, and he asked, "You hungry?" He kicked off his shoes inside the door and I followed suit as he locked it. He put his keys and wallet on the little table next to it, and I did the same.

"Maybe later," I answered. I was too nervous to eat. I'd been so stressed out before going to the Coffee Spoon that I hadn't been able to eat dinner beforehand. Maybe I was an emotional eater at times, but it was more when I was sad than when I was stressed.

He left the lights turned off and led me by hand through the darkened house. "Watch your eyes." He flipped on the bathroom light, and he stared into his bathroom for a few seconds then chewed on his bottom lip.

"We don't have to," I murmured, seeing he was growing anxious. I could feel his thumb stroking my skin like he was trying to start a fire.

"I want to, it's just ah…" Mat blew out a long breath. "It's been a uh...really long time. Like…  _ really _ long. Since I've...been with anyone, anyone but Rosa. Or with another guy. And I want this to be special and I'm afraid it's just going to end up being really, really awkward like so many things I do or it's going to go too fast and I know I'm making too big a deal of this but again like so many things I do I can't seem to stop myself, and here I am rambling when we're supposed to be…doing...things…"

I sighed, feeling so sorry for him I couldn't stand it. I moved close to him, pulling him against me so that I could hold him, and Mat let go of my hand to put his arms around my waist and hold me tight. What a sad pair we made, with our dead spouses and his anxiety and my depression and self-esteem issues. I admitted in a mumble, "And I've never been with anyone but Alex." He had to know that I hadn't been with anyone in the two years since Alex died, but it didn't hurt to make certain he knew.

"No way," he whispered.

"Yeah. But this'll be special no matter what, even if it is kind of awkward at times. I don't care. I just want to be here with you. You can't even begin to imagine how long I've wanted this. Just…  _ this _ . With you."

Mat's hold tightened as he whispered intently, "I hope you plan on telling me. Someday."

I couldn't help smiling at that, and maybe I wasn't the most forceful guy, but I could handle being the one to take the lead a little, at least at first. Maybe I was an emotional mess, but seeing someone else in that position had always been guaranteed to push me into action. And maybe it would be nice to...woo him, just a little. Alex had been the one to pursue me, something that still bewildered me decades later, but I could do this, and maybe I had only ever been with Alex, but we had been together for over twenty years. That more than made up for a lack of lovers on my part. Time and a sense of ease with each other had been greater teachers than a hundred one night stands.

Well then.

"You see, I went to a barbecue last spring," I began, "and I saw this impossibly beautiful man wearing a crown of flowers, this man who made the best banana bread I'd ever tasted in my life, and I was just...totally smitten." I slid my hand up under his hair to lightly massage the back of his neck.

"No," he said in disbelief. "You're pulling my leg. That soon?"

"This man has dimples that have magical properties, you understand."

Mat made a sound that came out an awful lot like a giggle. "You are so full of it."

"This man makes fantastic ham sammies, and the best coffee I've ever had, and has too tender a heart for Monopoly." I kissed his cheek, feeling his hands fist in the back of my shirt. "He let me cry on his shoulder and get snot all over his cafe's towels...which I  _ really  _ hope he remembered to throw in the wash right way because it just did not occur to me until right this second."

He lifted his head and whispered, "You're ridiculous," and kissed me as he began pushing back my overshirt. He shook his head, seeming embarrassed, his ears red. "I can't believe you."

"Every word is true." I felt a twinge of self-consciousness as he pushed my tee shirt up, but he didn't seem to mind my dad bod, running his hands over me as his kisses turned hungry. I tugged on his shirt and he took off his glasses and tossed them on the counter then pulled the shirt over his head and threw it aside, and I had to just stare, stopping him from kissing me again by putting my hands on his shoulders. I ran my hand down his left shoulder and arm, touching the tattoos, and murmured, "How can anyone be so... _ gorgeous _ . You're just so…" And I wasn't, but he moved against me and slid his hands over my chest and looked at me like I was the most desirable thing in the world.

"You're a fine one to talk. And I don't want to hear any of your b.s. about how you look or any of that. You're perfect the way you are." I must have looked pained, because he added, "And I know Alex told you so, because it's true." He grabbed my hand and slid it between us and pushed his groin against it. "There isn't any faking that, is there," he murmured, and leaned in for more kisses.

A shudder went through me to feel him like that, and when I began undoing his belt he hummed in encouragement. No, there really wasn't any faking that. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and it was...such a relief.

It took seemingly forever to get in the shower, but neither of us minded, too busy touching and kissing, too happy to no longer be alone. It was more of the same in the shower, though we at least had the presence of mind to wash first, or help each other rather, and we stayed in until the hot water ran out then helped each other dry off in the same manner and somehow,  _ somehow _ , made it to his bedroom.

God but it felt marvelous just to have someone there, someone warm and naked against me. I could tell that Mat was just about frantic with need, but still so sweet and gentle, and I pushed him onto his back and trailed kisses down. He hadn't been wrong that it would go fast, but the last half an hour had been nothing but foreplay, and there wasn't any reason to drag it out any further. We had all night. And maybe the morning too. Neither of us were young men, but being with someone new had a way of making up for that a bit, and we weren't old men either.

The sounds he made and his rambling little words of encouragement were so exciting that I was right on the edge, and when he rolled me back to return the favor I didn't last all that much longer than he had. It had clearly been a long time since he had done it, but it wasn't bad, and I didn't feel any teeth, which was always a good thing, and there was the simple wondrous fact that it was him.

It was  _ him _ . We were together. Mat and I were  _ together _ . It was...amazing. And more than a little terrifying. If we were together then he could leave me. But it was Mat, and why would he? He had gone to so much trouble the last four months to comfort me. He had written a song for me. He had gotten up on stage and performed for the first time in nearly 10 years just to support me. He had held me when I cried, and he had been there for my daughter when she needed help. He had forced me out of bed and fed me, taken me into his home, when I was feeling sad. I was the first person who had made him feel anything in years, the first person he had been with since Rosa died. All of that meant something. It meant a lot, and I had to have more faith than this. In Mat and maybe in myself too.

He coughed a little then mumbled, "I'll be right back."

"Mm-hm." The poor guy. I supposed that wouldn't be the easiest thing to get used to again. The bathroom light was still on, and I was given a breathtaking view as he headed that way. I heard the water running and him gargling then a glass filling, then he was returning, looking every bit as incredible from the front as from behind, and so adorable with his glasses back on. How could someone like me be so lucky?

As he climbed back onto the bed and handed me the water I felt a swell of love for him so strong it felt like it could stop my heart. He smiled at me as I sat up on my elbow and drank. Dimples. Oh lord. I gazed at him for a moment then reached up and stroked his cheek, rubbing the backs of my fingers along his jaw and feeling his beard scratch my skin. His smile faded as his eyes grew soft and his lips parted. I murmured, "I really was smitten from nearly the start."

"Yeah?" He seemed to have a hard time believing it.

"Yeah. Which...was, um...really confusing. I don't...do that. Feel things right away. Even with Alex it took a few weeks of dating before I started to feel anything. In...that way."

"Ohh. Gotcha," he said with a nod. He smiled again and leaned down to kiss me. "Then it's even more of an honor."

"Honor," I laughed, rolling away enough to put the glass on the nightstand on my side. "More of one than taking me to PUP?"

"Definitely more." When I rolled back he kissed me again. "Much more." His voice was tender, and he laid down at my side, sitting up on his elbow, and put his leg over mine. He frowned and asked, "So, was it...okay?" I shook my head in confusion. "The uh...what I did. Just now. To uh, you."

I resisted the urge to make a joke about the result sort of implying that it had been just fine. He looked way too vulnerable to go there. It felt awful that he was worried about that. I clucked my tongue and rubbed his cheek again and assured him, "It was fine, love, perfectly fine." I realized what I had just called him when he drew in a short, soft breath, and I waited for a couple agonizing seconds for his reaction.

"Good," he whispered, giving me a brief, poignant smile. "That's good." He took my hand from his face and kissed it several times then held it under his chin, staring at me with the sweetest expression. "You're going to call me every day, right? On your way to and from Chicago?"

"Every day," I promised. "Multiple times a day."

"Good," he repeated. "You hungry? I didn't really eat today."

I was sure he hadn't, if he had been anxious. I wasn't all that hungry, surprisingly, but I worried that if I didn't eat he might not either. "I could eat a little something."

He kissed me once more then let go of me and rolled off the bed. "Want to throw your clothes in the wash with mine?"

I made a sound of agreement and watched him go to a dresser and pull out a pair of pajama pants and toss them to me before putting on his own. I got up and pulled them on, glad to see that they had a drawstring waist. It was high summer and it was stuffy in here, something I realized when he opened the windows. He motioned with his head to follow him, and he waited in the doorway for me to join him before taking my hand. We fished our phones out of our pants and set them on the dining room table and put our stinky clothes in the wash then headed to the kitchen for snacks and beer.

It was so wonderful, sitting at the table with him, feeling his foot rub against mine as we ate and talked. It felt like home. Like we were a couple, and...I supposed we were. What did I even call him now? What did he want to be called? I disliked the term boyfriend at this point in my life. We were both so far from boyhood that calling each other that seemed childish. Partner? That might be all right. 

We didn't talk about any more sad things, or stay at the table longer than it took to eat and wash it down with the beers, then he took me to the back of the house and got out a new toothbrush and said it was mine and that it was staying here, because I would be too as much as we could manage. Funny, how such a simple thing as seeing an extra toothbrush sitting in the stand could make me so happy. We went to bed after that and were so exhausted that after a few minutes of talking and petting each other we fell asleep.

I was still wiped out when morning came, though I had slept all right, considering I hadn't turned on the sound app, but Mat had fidgeted off and on all night. It had only been a couple years since I hadn't had someone there, and Alex had been home more often than not, but Mat wasn't used to it.

He wasn't in bed when I awakened, his side cold, and I felt a twinge of insecurity until I smelled coffee and something savory cooking. I also heard the faint sound of the dryer running and the even fainter sound of a guitar playing. My full bladder was what had awakened me, so I got up and slid my phone into my pocket and headed for the bathroom. I was self-conscious about going around without a shirt in the light of day, and it was a very bright sunny day indeed, but I just had to deal with it. 

I wondered what the girls were doing as I relieved myself, and felt a bit guilty that I wasn't there to make them pancakes. It was only a little after 8:00 though, so they might not even be...

"Oh my god," I whispered. Carmensita had snickered when Amanda said I wouldn't even notice the girls were there. Because they knew  _ I _ wouldn't be there. Her comment that they could handle making the pancakes on their own made perfect sense now. The little stinkers.

I ran the toothbrush over my teeth, and I heard Mat call out from the living room.

"Hey babe, I made coffee. And I've got a frittata in the oven."

I stared at my reflection with wide eyes, tears pricking at them.  _ Babe _ . He'd called me babe. Like Alex used to.

_ Get it together. Don't cry _ .

They were halfway happy tears, but only halfway. I ran cold water and put it over my eyes and took deep breaths. I didn't want to cry this morning. This was a good morning, the first morning of a new relationship that might last the rest of my life, with any luck. I didn't want Mat to see me crying, either. I knew it would worry him.

I got myself together and went out into the living room with hesitant steps, folding my arms, which really didn't help hide my squishy center any. I would have borrowed a tee shirt, but none of them would fit. Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't had his hands and mouth all over me. He was quite aware of my physique and it hadn't deterred him any.

He was sitting on the couch with his guitar, idly plucking a tune and watching the hallway, as if waiting for me.  I'd noticed that he didn't play with a pick, and I'd felt the calluses on his fingertips last night. He smiled at me with a hint of shyness, looking tired but oh so handsome in his glasses, dreads still loose around his face, wearing only pajama pants. He set the guitar on the couch and got up, and I had to marvel again at how gorgeous he was. How had someone like me managed to attract someone like him, after he had spent so many years alone? I couldn't fathom what I had done to reach him when no one else had in so long.

He went to the kitchen, glancing back to make sure I was following. How could I not follow? I watched the muscles in his back move and his hair brush against his shoulders. He was just so perfect in every way. I was still scared that he was going to come to his senses and realize that he was way out of my league.

Mat got out a big coffee cup and began making my coffee, and I was more than happy to let the professional work his magic. He didn't have as fancy a setup here as he did at the Coffee Spoon, but the coffee still smelled amazing, as did the frittata in the oven. I loved frittatas. And I loved him. So much.

I went up behind him and touched him on the shoulders in warning so he didn't spill the coffee, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You didn't sleep well, did you," I quietly said, more a statement than a question.

He replied in a warm tone, "I've got no complaints."

I slid my arms around his waist and held him, not too tightly, as he made the coffee, and god help me but he felt so good I couldn't help reacting to it. His motions slowed then he set everything down and put his hands on the counter. I kissed near his ear, wanting so much to tell him that I loved him. How I wished I could. He would take it fine if I did, I knew he would, but I couldn't bear to get some kind of gentle platitude in response, or maybe even silence. The thought of that killed the rising desire and I contented myself with kissing his shoulder then letting go of him. "That frittata smells--" Mat caught my hands to keep me from moving away. "Great," I finished. He pulled my arms back around him then continued making the coffee, and I sighed softly and burrowed my nose into the back of his hair. He smelled so nice. "I should text Amanda," I said.

"Maybe while we eat?" I could hear a touch of vulnerability in his voice. "The girls are probably not up yet anyway."

I hummed in agreement. Whatever he wanted. I couldn't imagine why he would feel insecure this morning. I was the one in love, waiting for the other to catch up.

"How uh, long do you think you'll be gone?"

"On the trip? Maybe a week? It's about a 15 hour drive along the Pike, but we're making some stops and detours along the way."

"Just...don't push it, coming back."

I kissed his shoulder again and said, "I already promised myself I wouldn't. I'll split it between two days and keep music going. As long as I'm singing I'll be wide awake. I already have the soundtracks to  _ Dirty Dancing _ and  _ Saturday Night Fever _ queued up."

Mat laughed, "I'd like to hear that."

"My falsetto's pretty good, but the Bee Gees aren't my specialty."

He laughed again and turned slightly to hold out the finished cup of coffee, then turned to look at me as I let go of him to take it. "Didn't know you had a specialty."

I grinned at him and said in a flirty tone, "Oh, I do: sappy lo--" I blinked. "Songs." I took a sip of the coffee as my eyes shifted away. "I love sappy songs." I heard him make a soft little unhappy sighing sound, and I was suddenly at a loss as to what to say. I was afraid to even look at him. As the silence stretched out I felt myself starting to flush, and as pale as I was I knew it was spreading down my neck to my chest. I could feel it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him lean back against the counter and shake his head, and I gripped the mug between my hands as I struggled for what to say.

Mat mumbled, "For just a few seconds...I actually saw a light in your eyes, then it was gone again." I frowned, my gaze fixed on the stove. "I just…" Mat made a sound of frustration. "I'm not calling you out," he said, sounding a little desperate, "but… I know it took me a long time to get it. How you felt about me. But last night, the way you looked at me when I was up there playing, what you called me in bed last night, that one time...I  _ got  _ it, okay? I  _ get  _ it. And what you don't get is what that means to me, after being alone a hell of a long time." I looked pained, refusing to meet his eyes, and Mat's voice softened as he went on, "Whatever you have to give, you don't have to sit on it. I know...I  _ know  _ there's a lot in there, but you don't have to be scared of it, or how I'll react to it. I can take it."

I frowned at the coffee, struggling with what to say. I knew what he was getting at, I damn well knew it, but that didn't make it any easier. I went to take another drink and Mat put his hands around the mug. "Holding my coffee hostage?" I muttered. "That's dirty pool." He put his hand on my cheek and turned my head to face him, and I avoided his eyes for a few seconds then grumbled and gave in.

"All you've got is a little bit of a head start," he gently stated, putting his hand back on the mug over mine. "That part of me, it's like a piece of shit old truck that's been sitting in somebody's barn for years with a tarp over it. It's been a _ long time _ ," he stressed, "and maybe what I feel isn't the way you're feeling it, not yet, but...it isn't like it isn't there at all, and it isn't as if every minute we've been together hasn't been feeding it. Whatever you have to give, I want it. All of it."

I wanted that, god how I wanted that, but he didn't understand how terrifying the notion was.

Mat sighed and muttered, "You're going to make me say it, aren't you."

I shook my head curtly and said with dread, "No, you don't have t--"

"I know you love me." I closed my eyes, wincing, then looked away. He squeezed my hands around the mug and said, "All this time, you never came onto me, never asked me out, never made me feel like you were pushing yourself on me, you were just... _ there _ , all this time, with no expectations at all, and the more time went on the more I thought, 'Maybe I want him to always be there.' And then last week, when I realized you wanted me as much as I wanted you, I was like  _ 'Yeah _ , finally, this is  _ great _ , this is a start, maybe we could do this.' And then, then you looked at me like that last night, when I was singing, and...and it was like… ' _ Wow _ . Oh wow. Someone  _ loves  _ me. After all this time.  _ Mitchell  _ loves me.' And it was the best damn feeling in the world."

I did. I loved him so much, and I still couldn't bring myself to say it, only nod and take deep breaths and try to not start crying. God I wished I didn't cry so easily. I had spent so much of my childhood not letting myself cry, not even when I was alone, had spent so much of my teens and early twenties so angry, and once Alex came along the anger started to go away but the tears seemed to be the price for that.

Mat's breath left him in a rush and he rubbed his thumbs along my hands and murmured, "I'm so glad of that, you have no idea. And it's not like I'm not there too, but...I'm just catching up, and…and I'm totally crazy about you, you know that, right?" I nodded again, and he let go to take my face in his hands and make me look at him. "Hey," he whispered. He kissed me tenderly and went on, "I talked to my parents about you Friday night, did you know that?"

His parents. Oh...shit. He had parents. I'd forgotten. That people my age often had parents. Parents that cared about them and were involved in their lives. I knew Mat was an only child, and that he was close to his parents, just as I knew his father had been in the Army and they'd moved every few years when his dad was posted somewhere new, and that it was most likely the root of Mat's social anxieties, something he didn't at all blame his parents for. I didn't want to be the reason for any kind of problems between Mat and his parents, the way I had been for Alex and his. I knew it wasn't really the cause of that problem, but I'd never stopped feeling a tiny bit responsible for it.

Mat clucked his tongue and kissed me again then gave my head a gentle shake. "They want to meet you," he said in a reassuring tone. "Whatever you're thinking, just don't, okay? Dad's a little uptight but he's just glad I'm not alone anymore. It's not like he doesn't know I've been with guys in the past." He gave me one of his glorious smiles and laughed. "And I was texting Gabby about you this morning. She wanted an update."

"Update," I mumbled. Gabby. Oh. Gabriela. Rosa's younger sister.

"I've been talking to her about you all summer. She knew I liked you before I did. All the way back at the fair." I stared at him, stunned, and he let go of my face and said with a smirk, "You thought she was my date, didn't you."

"Maybe," I said under my breath, before lifting my coffee for a drink. It was lukewarm, and while it still tasted good it wasn't the masterpiece it had been when it was fresh. I moved away from him to put it in the microwave. "She's really beautiful."

"She is," he agreed. "Almost as beautiful as Rosa. Total sweetheart, too."

I hit the buttons and said, "Though when she mentioned a husband it threw me for a bit."

He let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, I bet it did."

"I thought there was some kind of….arrangement or something going on."

Mat laughed even louder. "Get out!"

"I was really hungover," I explained.

"Yeah you were," he said in amusement, coming over to stand behind me and wrap his arms around my waist and kiss the back of my neck. 

I rubbed his arms, ignoring the twinge of uneasiness I felt to see them squeezing my soft middle. Alex had said I was cuddly. Clearly Mat thought so too. There were worse things to be.

"I had a lot more reason to think you were seeing Hugo, though," he stated.

I chuckled, trying to let go of my mood. "I suppose the weekend away was hard to ignore. And the table in the corner, and the hand holding, and the hugging, and all that."

"Yes, yes, yes and yes." He placed an extremely loud smooch where my neck and shoulder met, making me laugh. "My parents want us to come down for Thanksgiving. Amanda too, if she wants. I think Mom was ready to get on a plane and come here, she was so over the moon. Dad sort of grunted like he does and just wanted the facts: how old you were, what you did for a living. He didn't connect that you were the neighbor I'd been talking about for months until we were nearly done with the call, and then he was all 'Yeah, all right son, as long as he's good to you', and I was like 'Yeah, he has been. And he will be.'"

I nodded and squeezed his arms. "I will be," I promised. Maybe I was having trouble telling him what he meant to me, but I never wanted to give him reason to doubt it.

"Aw, hey, I know you will, babe," Mat murmured, giving me a squeeze. He loosened his grip just enough for me to reach up and get my coffee out of the microwave. "Gabby's going to fill in everyone on that side. They'll be fine with it, and the ones that won't will keep it to themselves, and there's only a couple of those. They'll be happy for me, for the most part, and excited to meet you."

I sipped the coffee and tried to wrap my mind around all this. Mat was serious about this. Really serious. "I've never met family before," I said in a sorrowful tone. "Alex's memorial… his parents weren't invited. He'd always been adamant about that, that if they couldn't handle being a full part of his life that they couldn't have any part of his...his death either. So I honored his wishes and didn't try to contact any of his family. I...honestly don't know if they're aware. That he's gone."

"Guess it doesn't really matter if they're aware or not," Mat stated without sympathy. He rubbed his hand on my chest and gave my neck more kisses. "You don't have to meet anyone you don't want to, but...I'd like you to."

"I'd like to," I whispered. I'd be a wreck, but I wanted it. Wanted the chance, however slim it felt, of having...family. Actual family. In-laws. Grandparents for Amanda, in a way, even if she was grown. And it wasn't just Mat's parents. Mat was offering me Rosa's family as well. It seemed too much to hope for. I knew he was still close to Rosa's mom, though Rosa's dad had died when she was still in her teens. If he thought most everyone would be okay with this, with us, then I had to try to believe him.

Mat's hands stilled. "You're uh...going to tell me if I'm going too fast...right? If it's too much?"

I put my hand over his and reassured him, "I would, if that were a possibility."

He let out a breath of relief. "Good. That's...real good. It's just been a really long time, and I don't want to waste any of it, you know?"

I nodded, a lump in my throat. "I know." Losing Alex had shown me how quickly the things you loved could be gone forever. We'd thought we had decades more together ahead of us, another thirty or forty years, and everything had changed in an instant. I knew that wasn't what Mat was thinking, but I was. I didn't want to wait. I didn't want to ease into this. Mat had told me he wanted everything I had to give, without reserve, and I wanted the same from him.

Maybe...maybe if I tried a little harder it would help him along a bit. He'd implied that he thought he loved me, or was starting to. Maybe if I tried a bit more to let go of my insecurities it would help the feeling grow for him. Feed it, just as he'd said. I'd thought last night that I should woo him a bit. I had to at least try. If nothing else, I wanted him to know just how wonderful I thought he was, even if my every attempt to do so had embarrassed him so far. He seemed to like it just as much as it embarrassed him.

The timer on the stove went off, and Mat sighed and kissed my neck then let go of me to check his frittata. He looked so cute with oven mitts on. I leaned my hip against the counter and drank my coffee as he pulled out the pan and checked the food for doneness then turned off the oven and got out two plates and two forks. 

This was really it. I had someone again. I wasn't alone anymore. And Mat would always be around. No long hours or work trips away from home. I would gladly deal with it all again and keep doing so to have Alex back, but I was glad that I wouldn't have to deal with that with Mat. How could I be so lucky as to have found someone so wonderful twice?

Mat caught me watching him, and god knew what my expression was, but I was so happy right now, just being here with him, watching him get breakfast ready.  _ This  _ was what I'd missed. The sex had been nice, but that had never been the driving factor for me at all. I knew it wasn't for him, either.

"Hey, there it is!" Mat said in delight, though his voice was soft. He quickly closed the short distance between us and gently grabbed my face and kissed me. "Whatever you were just thinking, keep thinking it. I want to see those pretty blue eyes shining, just like that, all the time."

I was so weak for that kind of talk. I could give as good as I got though. If he wanted the full Mitchell onslaught of affection we would just see if he could take it. I set the coffee down and said, "Maybe I was thinking how adorable you look in oven mitts." He laughed shyly as his hands fell away and he shook his head. It was so charming how he could dish out the sweet talk but couldn't take it. I took his left hand and turned it sideways to kiss his palm then hold his hand against my chest. "Then I was thinking how lucky I am. And  _ then  _ I was thinking about how happy I am right now."

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"Mm-hm." I turned his hand over and kissed the flower on his wrist. "Did you know, that first time we went out, and moshed in that pit...and we came out and you were all breathless and had those little beads of sweat on your forehead? All I could think about was how much I wanted to see you looking like that in an entirely different situation."

"Oh yeah?" he murmured, his voice growing husky and his eyes sleepy and warm.

"And that night we listened to music here at your house, sitting on the couch, all I wanted was to crawl into your la--" I peeped in surprise as he cut me off with a kiss, and I broke away and said, "It's really difficult to romance you properly when--" He laughed and did it again, putting his hand on the small of my back and pulling me against him. I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the smell of him, the taste of coffee on his tongue, the slightly rough feel of his fingertips on my back, the feel of him hardening between us.

Mat said against my mouth, "That frittata's going to take a while to cool off." I made a sound of assent, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bedroom.

We fell into the unmade bed and Mat pulled me on top of him. He felt so good against me, though I felt a twinge of grief at how my body still automatically expected to feel Alex there. Mat was only a couple inches shorter than me, but Alex had only been 5'7", a good six inches shorter, perfect for snuggling, though I'd been the little spoon much more often. It was...different, lying like this with someone closer to my height. Things lined up nicely this way though, and god but was it erotic to be able to rub against each other while face to face.

He pushed my pajamas down, and I shimmied out of them as he took off his own, and I whispered, "Do you have any, um…" I made a stroking motion, and he rolled to the side and set his glasses on the night stand then fished something out of the lower drawer. I stared at it a moment then took it. It was a jar. A rather sizable jar of something thick and white. When I turned it around to read the label I realized it was...coconut oil. I couldn't help but be simultaneously relieved and confused. I used it for cooking sometimes, but I'd had no idea it could be used for  _ that _ . It was good to know it was possible to still learn new things at my age.

It was a bit awkward to get going, but once we did, dear god it was good, it was  _ amazing _ , just rubbing up against each other while Mat grabbed my ass and we kissed. The coconut oil smelled so good too, and in the back of my mind I worried for a split second that from now on I was going to get turned on when I cooked with it. It was a small price to pay.

Things didn't go as quickly as they had the night before, something I was glad of. I had always liked making love in the daytime, and I loved being able to see him, even if I had a few self-conscious moments on my part. I finally took us both in hand and Mat's head fell back and he closed his eyes as he let out a groaned  _ oh fuck _ and grabbed my hips and thrust up against me. God but he was so, so beautiful, and seeing his face as he peaked was heaven. I couldn't help but follow over soon after while he caught his breath, and we lay there sweaty and slippery and sticky and sated all at once.

I kissed his neck and breathed, "God Mat, I…"

I couldn't say it. I felt it so  _ much  _ at that moment that it was all I could do  _ not  _ to say it, but...I couldn't. I couldn't do it.

I heard a soft little huff of disappointment from him, but he reached up to rub the back of my head with one hand and hold me tight with the other. "Hey, I know," he whispered.

I swallowed hard, that old feeling coming back, whatever happiness I felt evaporating.  _ I'm sorry  _ I nearly said, but I knew that would make him feel bad. I knew it upset him when I compulsively apologized for things, things that honestly didn't require an apology. And I knew this didn't either. I  _ knew  _ that. Mat wasn't upset with me. I hadn't let him down. All he wanted was for me to feel comfortable saying what I felt. But how could I do that when I knew I wasn't going to get an answer in kind? He'd admitted as much that I wouldn't, not yet.

No, I wasn't going to say it, not on our first day together. Not until I was fairly certain I was going to get the response I wanted, even if that made me feel like a jerk. It wasn't Mat's fault that he wasn't quite there yet. It was obvious how much he cared for me, and after all, he had put all this in motion, when I would have gone on forever agonizing over my seemingly unrequited feelings. I couldn't expect him to say he loved me when he hadn't even been able to admit to himself that he was attracted to me until the fair. He was still catching up, just as he'd said.

I talked myself down off the emotional ledge and forced myself to lift my head and look at him, giving him as much of a smile as I could muster. "The frittata might be cold," I warned him.

Mat didn't answer, gazing up at me with a poignant expression on his face. Oh, those eyes of his, so deep and lovely, looking at me so intently, as if he was trying to read what I was thinking. He was already much too good at that. He finally gave me a small, gentle smile and reached up and took my face in his hands and rubbed my cheekbones with his thumbs.

My smile fell away, and I at least let him see what he meant to me, and he sighed and leaned up to kiss me. Without leaning on his elbows. I could only dream of having abs that were capable of that.

"Tell Amanda she has to go to the community college," he said as he laid back again. "A week's too long."

I laughed and kissed his cheek then laid my head on his chest, feeling his hand go to the back of my neck to rub it. The poor guy was a mess. We both were, but he had taken the brunt of it. Neither of us seemed inclined to move right this second though. "I really should text her," I murmured.

"Yeah, maybe so," he admitted. "I texted Carmensita when I woke up and told her everything was fine and to stay put, but she hasn't texted back yet. I doubt the girls are even up." 

Still, he reached for his pants to get his phone and I kissed his chest then got up to go into the bathroom to wash the oil off my hand and get a washcloth or something to clean off with. I couldn't leave the poor guy like that.

I took the washcloth out of the shower and got it wet and cleaned off then rinsed it out and brought it back to him, cleaning him off then taking the washcloth back to the bathroom. He was putting the lid back on the coconut oil when I returned, and as I took it from him I laughed a bit and said, "Wow, uh...that was...inspired, I guess? Coconut oil?"

He winked at me. "It worked, didn't it?"

I beamed at him. "Very well." I looked at the jar, and without my brain being fogged by arousal I noticed it was half empty.

Mat noticed my inspection and drawled, "It's been a long, lonely summer." I tittered and put it away, then he added, "I also put it in my hair sometimes."

"Ah." Well that made perfect sense. I got back into bed and pulled the covers up to our waists as we slid close to each other with our phones. I moved down so I could lean my head against his shoulder and check my emails. I didn't have any projects going at the moment, but there were a few on the line that might pan out, and I wanted to keep an eye out for any updates on those.

"Hey babe."

"Hm?" I turned my head to look up at him and he smiled at me, and I grinned back. I loved it when he called me that. I was just so happy right now, lying in bed with him on a lazy Sunday morning. He didn't seem to want anything more than a kiss, and I was happy to oblige.

"Niiiice," he purred with a nod of satisfaction and a broad smile, and he turned his phone to show me the series of selfies he had just taken. There was one with me smiling up at him with an adoring expression, another other with us kissing.

I cried out in dismay and pulled the covers over my head.

He laughed and said, "Come on, I've got to commemorate our first morning together. Besides, my parents want to see what you look like."

I yanked the covers back down and drew a breath to say in a horrified, offended tone that his parents did  _ not  _ need to see a picture of us in bed together still flushed from doing the obvious, then I saw him biting his lip, his eyes sparkling. "You," I breathed in betrayal, eyes narrowed. Mat burst into laughter, and I couldn't help but laugh too, though I tried not to. I had no idea he could be such a... _ brat _ . It was so charming.

"No, but seriously, they want to know what you look like." I grumbled, and Mat snuggled up to me and said in a sing-song voice, "I told them you were handsome." I snorted a bashful laugh, and he continued looking at his phone as he added, "Maybe we could take another one later? After we're dressed?"

I nodded and made a sound in the affirmative, unable to say no to him, especially when he had that vulnerable tone to his voice.

"I uh…" He paused, his tone turning serious. "It's just that movie. That Amanda made for her graduation party," he stated, sounding hesitant. "All those memories. I don't have a lot of those. Of me and Rosa. We were only together for six years before she passed, and we uh, weren't so good about taking pictures until Carmensita was born. You made a point of taking all those pictures and videos, and I know you must have started before Amanda came along, am I right?"

My heart aching, I stared up at the ceiling as I whispered. "Yeah. You'd be right." God, he really had my number. Amanda had gotten her love of photography from me; I didn't do it as a form of artistic expression the way she did, but as documentation, a way of holding onto moments before they passed, and thank god that I had always been so compulsive about it, even before smartphones with great cameras had come along. Cell phones and digital cameras hadn't really existed when Alex and I were first together, so instead I'd taken tons of film pictures and had had a camcorder. All of the old stuff had been taken to a place that had digitized everything, about four years ago, and I had backups of everything in more than one place, in addition to it being on the cloud. My memories, and the memory of Alex, were as safe as I could make them.

Mat clucked his tongue and tossed his phone on the bed then rolled onto his side to put his arm over me. "Watching that video, it was just so beautiful, you know? I mean, of course you know, and I know it hurt to watch it, but those memories are so precious, and...I want us to build memories like that. You and me, and...and Carmensita too."

I sighed painfully and brought my hand up to hold onto his arm across my chest. Was he really asking what I thought he was? I couldn't respond to that, afraid I was misunderstanding him. But I didn't think I was. I would be more than happy to be involved in his daughter's life, but I wanted to ease into that part of things. Maybe that was what Mat apparently wanted, but sweet as she was, Carmensita might feel differently. I'd love to spend time with them, but… 

Wow, this was a lot. To take in. He really had put a lot of thought into all of this. Into us.

"I think that was part of what made me so damn mad at Hugo," he explained, a bit sheepishly. "I watched that video and saw you over there bawling and it was just so...goddamn  _ painful  _ to see how much you'd loved Alex, still loved him, and Hugo was treating everything so casually, like you were some way to just pass the time or something, when you had so much to give to someone who was willing to accept it. He wasn't even over there comforting you and left it to Craig. And I feel bad in hindsight for getting so mad at him, but--"

"What  _ did  _ you say to him?" I had to derail where he was going with all this or I was going to start crying. No crying today.

Mat hid his face in my shoulder. "Oh god man, don't make me say it. I told him I was sorry."

"Hm." I let go of his arm and swiped on my phone.

"What ah...what're you doing?" he asked in a tone of dread.

"Oh no, I'm not texting Hugo. But I saved a screenshot of his text to me. It was hilarious." I scrolled through my gallery and eventually found it and showed it to Mat, who found it as funny as I did, though I could feel how warm his face was against my shoulder.

His phone vibrated and he picked it up, and while he checked it I sent Amanda a quick text. She didn't need the details. No one did. I halfway feared that the moment I set foot outside I would find all the neighbors standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, ready to erupt into jubilant cheers.

_ ME: Hi honey I hope you girls had a good night, everything is fine, just saying good morning _

I didn't expect a response, and actually sort of preferred not to get one right away. We liked to joke a lot between the two of us, but this was serious business, and she wouldn't make light of it. She was an empathetic girl, and a caring daughter. Surely she wouldn't joke about me spending the night with Mat. It was bad enough thinking about how hard I was going to start blushing the minute I laid eyes on anyone.

"Carmensita checking in," Mat murmured as he texted back. He angled his phone so I could see it.

_ C: Hi Dad, just checking in. We were up really late and Amanda's still sleeping. Teenagers. _

I snorted a laugh. "Isn't she going to be one soon?" I asked.

"Too soon," he muttered. He texted back that we were still being lazy and hadn't eaten breakfast yet but that everything was good and we'd gotten everything worked out.

"If you know what I mean," I said with an exaggerated wink and a nudge, then I realized exactly what I had just said. "Um, forget I said that?"

"I've got a mind like a steel trap, babe. No can do."

I could hear the amusement in his voice though. Me and my compulsive need to joke about everything!

"That was pretty funny though," he conceded with a laugh. He kissed my shoulder then threw the covers back. "I'm starving. Aaaaand the frittata's probably cold."

"Worth it."

Mat grinned at me as he pulled his pajama pants on. "Yeah it was." He put on his glasses then headed into the bathroom.

I sighed happily and took the opportunity to send a group text to Damien and Hugo. I was shocked that Damien especially had left me alone this long, but while he was firm and no-nonsense at times he was also very compassionate and respectful of others' privacy.

_ ME: I just wanted to tell you both thank you for last night and for sticking by me while I tortured myself. You guys are the best!  _

_ ME: Won't go into details but everything is really great and I'm just really happy right now and let the record show that Damien was right _

Hugo immediately texted back a seemingly endless string of thumbs up emojis with a heart at the very end.

_ DAMIEN: HALLELUJAH!! _

They left it at that, and I chuckled to myself and hauled myself back out of bed. Thank god I'd been going to the gym or I would be a wreck right now. I really was not used to...this...kind of physical activity. Not any longer. It would be nice to get used to it again though. 

I pulled my pants back on and put my phone in my pocket then stretched, looking around Mat's bedroom. As furniture went there was just the queen bed and the nightstands and a dresser, and there were some beautiful wall hangings in vibrant patterns and an empty guitar stand. His other guitar and the stage equipment were still in the back of his van, so the guitar he had been playing this morning must have been the one that was usually in here.

I heard the toilet flush and I headed that direction, my stomach starting to snarl more than growl, and we went together to the kitchen. I dished out the frittata and reheated it while Mat made us fresh coffees. He started a record playing, and when we sat down together at the kitchen table I felt the same pure pleasure that I'd felt last night as we ate there. We were  _ together _ . Really together.

My phone dinged, and I picked it up to see that it was Amanda. It was early for her, but with company who was already awake it was understandable.

_ PANDA: Good morning Pop, I love you!!! _

Ugh, god I loved her so much. I was going to miss the hell out of her. I had set up video calling on my laptop, since it had a built-in webcam, so we could talk. It would take all the self-control I had not to call her every day. On the way to Chicago we'd have to work out some ground rules so I didn't overstep my bounds. I was so afraid of being smothering or too clingy. I already had issues in that regard surrounding her, so how much worse was it going to be when she was living nearly a thousand miles away and I wouldn't see her in person for weeks or more at a time? I couldn't really afford to fly her home more than once a month, and would she even want to come home? What if she made lots of new friends and was having too much fun to visit? I mean, I wanted her to make friends and enjoy herself in Chicago but--

"Hey hey," Mat murmured, reaching out to lay his hand on my arm. "What's wrong? You were so happy a second ago."

_ I'm sorry. _ "Just...thinking about Amanda being gone," I stated, my voice thick. I gave him a quick smile. "Just me being me. It's nothing."

"It isn't nothing. I can't handle thinking about Carmensita moving away, that would tear me up. It's been just me and her for so long that…" He drew in a deep breath and blinked, eyes suddenly shiny, then he shook his head, as if trying to shake away the threatening mood. "She up?"

"Yeah." I showed him the message.

"Aww. She's a good kid."

"The best."

"Actually that would be Carmensita, but okay."

We both laughed a little. We were such huge dorks. I loved it. I loved him.

And I loved this frittata. Lots of veggies and cheese, and bits of what tasted like leftover taco meat. Fantastic.

I leaned over and kissed him, trying to reassure him that I was fine and just being emotional, and he seemed satisfied with that and let go of me so I could text her back.

_ ME: I love you too honey, so much. Did you make your blueberry pancakes? _

_ PANDA: Jeez Pop, forget the pancakes. Is everything good? Really? _

_ ME: Yes very good. It all worked out and can we just kind of leave it at that? _

_ PANDA: Oh Daddy of course we can, I'm just really happy for you! And Mat!  _

_ ME: Thank you honey, I'm happy too _

I knew I was turning pink, and when Amanda didn't text anything else I set down the phone and hid my face in a cup of coffee.

Mat chuckled and didn't say anything, but he slid his phone over to show me a text. It took me several seconds to realize it was from earlier yesterday evening.

_ MAT: Don't say anything to your dad but can you make sure he comes to open mic tonight please I think I'm going to ask him out if it's okay with you I really like him and I think we'd be good together but you know how he is and I don't want him chickening out and not showing up tonight _

_ AMANDA: Oh wow, seriously? He was just telling me how much he likes you! This is so great, you guys! Go for it! _

_ MAT: Oh god really okay good that's great yeah okay so I guess I'll see you guys there _

_ AMANDA: I'm helping him get dressed. I'll make sure he looks nice. ;) _

I put my hand over my mouth as I felt the heat in my face climb several notches. I pushed the phone back and mumbled into my hand, "She told me it was Emma." I had to hand it to my daughter, she knew how to play it cool. Then my eyes widened in realization. Damien. "Damien," I whispered. "Him too?"

Mat laughed and thumbed through his phone then showed it to me.

_ MAT: DON'T LET HIM LEAVE YOU GUYS _

_ DAMIEN: We're sitting outside with him. Never fear, he isn't going anywhere if we can help it. _

_ MAT: OKAY GOOD JUST LET ME GET THE GIRLS TAKEN CARE OF THEN I'LL BE OUT _

_ DAMIEN: Your caps lock is on. Just thought I'd let you know. _

_ MAT: YES I KNOW IT'S ON I THINK TONIGHT TOTALLY WARRANTS CAPS LOCK OKAY _

I sputtered then laughed behind my hand. "You are so adorable," I cooed. He smiled at me, looking embarrassed but happy. He was happy, I was happy, Amanda was happy, I thought Carmensita was probably happy, our two friends who knew about us were happy… Everything was good. I knew there would be hard times here and there, mostly because of my issues, but I was at least starting to believe that I could get back to the place I was before Alex died, albeit with the grief of losing him always in the background. I loved Mat, I really did, but if I could get Alex back…

Well I couldn't. And I loved Mat. I  _ loved  _ him.

We finished breakfast and coffee then took a quick shower, resisting the urge to turn it into more. For two forty-something guys who had fooled around less than an hour before, it wasn't that strong of an urge, but it was sweet, washing each other, Mat washing my hair, and telling me he'd show me how to wash his when I got back. Then we dressed, though I had to wear the clothes I had been wearing last night, albeit clean, and I helped him unload the equipment from his van into his garage, something we somehow managed to do without any of the neighbors coming out and harassing us.

And then it was time to face the girls. I could tell Mat was as nervous as I was about it. Carmensita had no memory of her dad with anyone, while Amanda had grown up with married parents. On the other hand though, Amanda had only ever seen me with Alex. I wasn't even entirely sure that she knew that Alex was the only person I had ever been with, in a relationship or otherwise. Maybe she didn't want me to be sad and lonely, but it might not be so easy for her to see me with someone other than her dad.

We didn't get more than halfway up my driveway before the girls came busting out of the house. Amanda threw herself at me and I held her tight, my face in her hair.

"Oh Pop, I'm...I'm so happy for you," she choked.

"Thanks honey," I whispered. "I'm happy too." As happy as someone like me could be. I knew being with Mat would ease my grief and I would be happy again, I knew that, and it was unfair to him that I kept feeling sad off and on this morning, but he knew why. He understood me in ways no one else did. As much as we cared for each other, enjoyed each other, the spouses we had lost were there in the background, and we were both very much aware of the fact that we were each other's first partner since losing them.

We went inside the house and the girls hadn't made their pancakes yet, so Mat and I sat on the stools at the kitchen counter and talked to them while they cooked, and Mat gave his phone to Amanda so she could take some nice pictures of us together, leaning against each other and smiling. They were good pictures. He sent a couple of them off to his parents, and within a few minutes his mom responded.

_ MOM: Well isn't he a nice looking boy _

_ MAT: He's 47 mom. But yeah he's pretty good looking isn't he _

"Oh my god," I muttered, deliberately looking away from the exchange to drink my coffee. Mat chuckled and continued to text, but I felt his knee bump up against mine and I leaned against him. It just felt so good to have someone there. The girls kept looking at us then each other and smiling, and I wondered what they had talked about between the two of them. Amanda would have kept the discussion age-appropriate, or at least I hoped she would have. I supposed I would find out on our trip. We would have tons of time to talk. Maybe I would even be able to bring myself to tell her more about how I was raised, and the effect that had had on me, and still did, at least enough that she didn't feel she was deliberately being kept in the dark. My child wasn't my emotional crutch, and I wasn't going to treat her like one.

The notification sound pinged on my phone, and I picked it up and saw that Mat had sent me the pictures Amanda had just taken, along with a text message:

_ MAT: For a new photo album. <3 _

Then the pictures from this morning came through as well.

_ MAT: Just for us. _

The message ended with a winky smooch emoticon, and I snorted an embarrassed laugh and looked sideways at him to find him smiling back at me. I couldn't help staring, and his smile softened into something tender, his gaze warm and sweet.  _ I love you _ , I thought, hoping he could see it in my expression, even if I couldn't say it yet, even if I felt it so strongly that it was all I could do not to say it.

Mat squeezed my thigh then leaned in and kissed my cheek, and I heard the girls go silent and unmoving in the kitchen. I gave Mat a small, quiet smile as my face warmed, then I turned back to my phone and uploaded the recent pictures to my photo account, making an album titled 'A New Start', then I marked the ones from this morning as private. I refused to look at the girls, and within a few seconds they continued their chatting and pancake making.

Mat and Carmensita hung out with us for the next few hours, helping us pack, and it helped stave off the worst of my dread over this being the last night Amanda would spend in the house before heading off to college and starting to make her own way in the world. It felt odd at first, having Mat in my bedroom, even if it was just to talk. I could hear the girls murmuring to each other in Amanda's room, and it occurred to me that they might end up sisters someday. If Mat ever wanted to get married.

What if...what if Mat didn't want to get married, though?

And what if he did? What would we do with our houses? Whose would we live in?

No. I shook the thoughts away. I didn't need to borrow trouble. We hadn't even been together 24 hours yet. I hardly needed to worry about things like that when I had more immediate issues staring me in the face, namely my child leaving home.

Mat and Carmensita stayed until a little before two then he reluctantly said that he had to go into Boston to get supplies for the cafe, and it was all we could do to tear ourselves away from each other. But he had to make the half hour plus drive north and get to the places before they closed, and I had to do dad things like get the car's oil changed before our big trip and get keys to Craig so Briar and Hazel could check on things and pick up my mail. We would be seeing each other in the morning so Amanda and I could get coffee for the road, but it was still difficult to part. I was going to miss him so much this coming week.

As I watched Mat and Carmensita drive away, Amanda quietly said, "I really am happy for you, Pop."

"I'm glad, honey," I replied, my voice just as soft, as I put my arm around her shoulders. She leaned into me. "Is uh...Carmensita okay with it?" She had seemed to be, from what I could tell, but I wasn't good at reading people. Kids were people. Smaller people.

"Oh, yeah! She's totally good with it. Did you think she wouldn't be?" I hesitated, and she said, "It's kind of weird to her, but only because she's never seen her dad with anyone. I don't think it ever really occurred to her that he might be lonely. She's only 11."

God, that was cute.

Amanda continued with a ring of authority in her voice, "You and Mat'll be good for each other."

"I hope so," I murmured. "He ah, said he wants me to meet his parents. He wants us to go down for Thanksgiving. You too, if you're home."

"Wow, Pop," she whispered. "That's serious."

"Yeah." Amanda knew I'd never met Alex's parents, and Alex had never made any secret of the fact that he had cut off any contact with them. She didn't need to know the details. She didn't need to know about the many heated phone calls in Spanish that had taken place early on in our relationship, phone calls Alex had never meant for me to overhear, and that I had pretended that I hadn't. I hadn't understood more than a few words here and there, but the tone had said it all.

My daughter gave me a squeeze, then we went back inside to finish packing. I didn't have much to take, just a single suitcase, but she was in essence setting up a whole separate mini-household in her dorm room. I had to keep reminding her that she only had so much space, and that it was better to pack light and have me ship whatever was missing later on. And maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted her to leave some things behind. I wanted to be able to walk into her room and fool myself into thinking she was just away for a weekend.

I somehow managed to make it through packing without crying, though I nearly lost it when she packed the tattered and mended stuffed panda that she'd had since she was a baby.

_ Keep it together, Mitchell. Thousands of parents a year go through this. This isn't the end of the world. _

Maybe it was overly dramatic of me, but...it felt like it was. The excitement of a blossoming relationship could only help mitigate the feeling of loss so much.


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey bro, I was going to send the girls over after dinner for the keys. You didn't need to bring them."

I could hear the clank of silverware on plates coming from inside the house. It seemed early for dinner, a little after five, but Amanda and I had always been night owls and eaten late, as had Alex when he was still with us. I heard Ashley's voice talking to the girls and realized that I was interrupting not just dinner but a family dinner. The whole family. Ashley's car was in the driveway but I'd assumed they were just doing their usual weekly pick up or drop off.

"God, I'm sorry," I muttered. "I didn't meant to, well, I can come back later."

Craig's eyes widened a bit and he waved his hands in front of him. "Oh no, no no no, not a big deal! Did you eat already?"

"No, but--"

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me inside. "Well come on, bro. You want to call Amanda over?"

Craig was a force of nature, and I went along with him as he brought me into the house and closed the door. I explained, "She's with her friends. They wanted to get together one last time before we leave tomorrow." The sound of girlish giggles and Ashley's laughter came from the dining room, and I winced and murmured, "I don't want to intrude. If you guys are trying to…" Work things out.

Craig had been so down on our camping trip about having to get out and date again, and after prodding at him a while he'd admitted that he missed Ashley and hadn't really wanted a divorce, but he hadn't known how else to stop the fighting and had gone along with it because it seemed to be what she wanted at the time. That had been an eye-opener for sure, but sitting around a campfire at night tended to bring out that sort of talk. We had stayed up late talking, and talking, and it had really seemed to help both of us. I hadn't had the courage though to talk to him about Mat, and I hoped he wasn't going to be hurt when I brought it up in a bit.

Craig shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, giving me one of his charming crooked smiles. "Nah bro, it's just dinner. We're not there yet, but… I don't know, it seems like she wants to. I've been hinting at it, but you know me. I'm not good at...subtle."

"No," I whispered in disbelief, earning a laugh and a jab in the ribs.

He put his arm through mine and tugged. "Come eat with us."

"All right. Thanks." As we walked I quickly added in a lowered voice, "You know I'll watch the girls if you two ever want to get out and talk. Seriously." He'd admitted during our campfire talk that their busy schedules and lack of time together had probably been behind the breakdown of their marriage, and I'd had to agree. They hadn't split because they didn't love each other anymore. I had seen the way they still looked at each other at Amanda's graduation party. I thought there was potential there for them to work things out, and it would be work. But wasn't it worth it though? Craig seemed to think it was, but it was Ashley that was the relative unknown in the equation.

He smiled warmly at me. "I'll take you up on it, I promise." We walked arm-in-arm to the dining room, and Craig raised his voice and said, "Hey girls, look who showed up to have dinner with us! Best bro!"

Oh god. He'd never called me that before. Was that really what I was? I supposed that if his schedule had kept him so busy that he barely had time for himself, maybe he hadn't had time to cultivate friendships beyond the guys on our street and the other sports parents. He definitely hadn't had time for anything beyond that.

And wasn't he my best friend too, when you got down to it? I felt more comfortable with him than anyone else, trusted him more than anyone else. He and I had known each other our whole adult lives, other than the years after he'd moved to California and we'd fallen out of touch. We'd been through things together that we hadn't with anyone else. He'd taken me with him when he went home to his parents' house for holidays, knowing I didn't have family. He'd known Alex. I'd been the best man at his wedding, though he hadn't come to mine and Alex's, since we had lost touch by then. Looking at things in hindsight, maybe we really had been best friends back then and I'd been too self-absorbed to realize it.

Well now I felt like shit. I should've confided in him about Mat. Why hadn't I confided in him about Mat?

Ashley gave a little cheer in greeting and got up so that we could hug and kiss each other's cheeks, and I said hi to the twins and River. I couldn't believe how much the baby had grown since I moved into the neighborhood. She wasn't much of a baby anymore, toddling around and starting to talk. Time went too fast. I knew that better than anyone, with my own daughter soon to leave the nest, even if it was temporary.

I was handed a plate and seated next to...Hazel? Briar? And told to dish up. They were having some kind of creamy chicken and pasta dish with broccoli, and it smelled and looked fantastic.

Craig said, "Hey, wasn't last night open mic at the cafe?"

Oh shit. Oh no.

I felt my face start to flush.

"Um, yeah," I mumbled with a nod. "Amanda and I went. And Damien and Hugo."

"Not my scene," he said with a shrug. "Glad you guys went though. Mat could use the support."

Another nod. "Definitely." I'd supported him all right. Christ. I quickly shoveled a mouthful of chicken and pasta into my mouth. I glanced sideways at Ashley and she was twirling her pasta onto her fork and looking at me with a curious expression. I quickly looked back then across the table, and River grinned at me as she smashed her hands into a plate of plain pasta.

"Dooda!" she proclaimed, lifting a handful of noodles then smashing it onto her high chair tray with impressive force.

I shook my fork at her and said in a thoughtful tone, "You bring up an interesting point, Miss Cahn. I'll take it under consideration." The twins giggled and Ashley and Craig laughed.

Craig asked, "So you all packed up?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I replied, a hitch in my voice. I gave him a brief smile then looked at my plate and pushed the broccoli around as I murmured, "Just...still not used to the idea. Of her not being there. It probably won't hit until I get back." Craig's mouth twisted as he looked at me with a sad expression full of sympathy then glanced at Ashley. God, I really needed to talk to him in private. I asked the twins, "So, you guys excited about going back to school?"

"No!" "Yes!"

Well now at least I remembered which twin was which. It embarrassed me how hard it was to tell them apart.

Dinner with the Cahns went nicely. Ashley was as fun as she had ever been, and it was almost like old times hanging out with her and Craig, albeit with much less weed and alcohol involved. I offered to help clean up but the twins had dish duty. Craig offered me a beer, and it was one of those light beers whose commercials always featured super-fit guys like Craig, with the obligatory ultra-manly voiceover talking about working hard and playing hard. I took it and tried not to shudder as it went down. It was cold, and that was about the only thing it had going for it. One of the microbrews that Mat always seemed to have on hand would have been really welcome just then.

Ashley took River upstairs to give her a bath, casting a meaningful look at Craig before she disappeared.

I murmured, "I should go." Dinner had been nice, but now I seriously felt like I was infringing on family time.

"No way, bro," Craig said with a wave of his hand. "Let's go hang on the patio."

"Are you sure?"

"Thought I might, I don't know, relax out there."

He didn't need to say it twice, and I smiled at him in approval then we headed out.

There wasn't much that was nicer than an August evening hanging out in the backyard with a friend drinking beer. Especially a...best friend? Yes. Yes, Craig was my best friend. I had a best friend. And I should have told my best friend about Mat.

He stretched out on the chaise and sighed in contentment while I took one of the chairs. "So, you going to be okay, bro?" he asked. "When you get back?"

Wow. He just bolted right out of the gate. I wasn't prepared. "Uh...I think so?" I answered, rather lamely. Was that why Ashley had looked at him like that? Because they were both worried about me?

"I just don't…" He bit his lip and shook his head. "We don't like the idea of you being...you know. Alone in the house."

Oh boy.

"Yeah, about that," I began.

"Yeah?"

I grimaced and took a drink of beer. Then grimaced more. God, this beer was awful. But it was a beer given in friendship, and those could not be refused.

Craig asked, "Hey, are you thinking about dating again? 'Cause you look like you've been going to the gym."

I nearly asked what in the blue blazes the two had to do with each other, but I had to get this out. I admitted in a sheepish tone, "Well...I have been going to the gym--"

"I knew it!" Craig exclaimed in triumph.

"I wanted it to be a surprise." But wow, flattering that he'd noticed.

He sputtered a laugh. "Yeah right. You wanted to see if anyone would notice."

He had me there. "Well, yes, but…" I rolled the beer can between my hands. "Look, I… I've been meaning to talk to you. About...the, uh...dating thing."

Craig's expression softened and he said in understanding, "Hey bro, no worries. It's been two years. If you feel like you're ready, then you are."

"And I am, but…" God, how to put this? "You see, I've sort of…" I rubbed my hand over my face. "I talked to Damien about this, but I should have talked to you too, but I was hoping it would go away, so I left it alone, and you live right there. I mean here." Craig frowned at me in confusion. "Next, um...door. To somebody."

"To who, Brian?" His eyebrows shot up. "He thought you were dating Hugo and I told him you weren't seeing anybody or interested in anyone. You would've told me if you were."

God, I felt like an asshole. I put my hand over my face, the beer dangling in the other between my knees.

"Bro," Craig whispered, sounding hurt.

"I'm so sorry," I choked. "I just...really liked him, but I was too embarrassed to say anything, and the more time went on the worse it got. How I felt about him. I kept hoping it would go away, then it just got to be...more."

"But...I don't get it. Why you didn't tell me first." He sighed and took a drink of beer, looking out across the yard. "So which one of them is it?"

"It isn't Brian. Or Hugo." Craig froze and his eyes slowly slid over to me, and I exclaimed, "It isn't you either! Christ!"

Craig shook his head and closed his eyes, holding up his hand. "Okay bro, back it up. Like way up." He took in a deep breath then blew it out and opened his eyes. "Are you seeing someone or not?"

I winced and sunk my head down between my raised shoulders as I peeped, "Yes?" He glared at me, his lips pursed. "But it's just as of last night! We only started seeing each other as of last night!"

"You met someone at open mic?"

Shit, this was painful. And it was shitty of me to make him drag all this out of me. I took in a deep breath then a bracing swig of the piss beer then set the can down between my feet and kept my eyes on it. "I'm seeing Mat," I stated.

"What!?" Craig yelled, sitting bolt upright in the chaise. "You're sh--" He quickly lowered his voice and leaned forward. "You're shitting me, bro! You and Mat? Since last night?"

I braced myself and mumbled, "I may have...um...spent last night there?"

Craig put both hands over his mouth and stared at me with huge eyes. "Brrrooooo!" he squealed behind his hands. His dark eyes sparkled. "I thought you two would be good for each other but I didn't want to butt in!" His hands fell and he swung his legs over the side of the chaise. "So, come on, tell me!"

"I'm sorry I never said anything," I stated in a pleading tone. "I wanted to, but…"

"You're a coward," he said with a shrug. "It's okay, I get it."

I let that pass, and proceeded to spend the next five minutes explaining everything. He didn't seem upset any longer, but I still felt awful. I didn't go into any detail about last night, and this morning, any more than I ever had with Alex, because I just wasn't that way. It seemed disrespectful, but some people were just more open about that than I was. God knew I had heard way more about Craig and Ashley's relationship early on than I had ever wanted to.

"Wow," Craig whispered. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I didn't realize. That you liked him. I mean, in hindsight I guess I can--"

"I'm really sorry."

Craig looked pained. He'd never liked my compulsive apologizing, knowing the reasons for it. "You don't have to be. I get why. I mean, it's kind of weird. With being neighbors and all, but…" He trailed off when he saw my unhappy expression. "But not in a bad way!"

"I only told Damien at the party because he caught me watching Mat and called me out on it," I stated, hating the tinge of whininess and defensiveness in my voice.

Craig grinned and said, "And Mat caught you checking him out at the gym and called you out on it."

"Basically," I croaked. God, that had to have been one of the top five most embarrassing moments of my life. That it had worked out in the end really didn't change that. At all.

He put his chin in his hand and asked, "So what now? Is it, like, official? You know, out there?"

"I...think so? I mean...it isn't a secret. We're...together. He wants me to meet his parents."

"Already? Wow. He isn't wasting any time, but...I guess it's been a long time. For him. Rosa, she was already long gone when we moved in. Brian thought he might've dated a few times a while back. Four or five years ago, maybe? But, you know, he's kind of high-strung and it never seemed to work out, then he just sort of seemed to give up." He shrugged. "According to Brian."

That...that I did not know. I knew Mat hadn't slept with anyone else since Rosa died, but there wasn't any reason why he should tell me that he'd tried to date. God, I could just imagine what that had done to him, going out with people he didn't know well. He would've been a nervous wreck every time. Then he would've started his rambling, or foot tapping, or thumb twitching, or any of his other little tells, and it might've put people off. It had with me, the first time we met. Only the fact that we lived next door to each other had forced us into close proximity long enough to get over the initial awkwardness on both our parts. Well, no, the awkwardness had continued the whole time, but we'd learned to ignore it in each other, or had gotten used to it, rather. It had given him time to get comfortable with me, enough for him to overcome any anxiety about dating me.

I was looking forward to the day when things settled out. The newness of everything was exciting, and I was enjoying getting to know him better, but I still had this itch in the back of my mind, the worry that he would come across that one irredeemable flaw of mine that he couldn't tolerate, and then it would be over. I knew I should have more faith than that, but it wasn't so much lack of faith in Mat as it was in my lovability. I'd stopped worrying long, long ago that Alex would leave me, but it was going to take time for me to believe Mat wouldn't.

_Just stop it already. Mat adores you._

I knew that, I really did, and I pulled out my phone to look at the pictures Mat had sent me this morning. I opened the nicest one, of us leaning against each other and smiling, my arm around his neck. We looked a little embarrassed but happy. I smiled and showed it to Craig. "From this morning," I said.

"Awww, you guys," he gushed. "Nice!"

"He sent it to his parents." I looked at the other pictures, though I didn't show Craig the ones from when we were lying in bed. Maybe I'd squawked about it at the time, but I loved those pictures. I mumbled, "He says they're good. With...things."

He snorted a laugh and took a drink of his beer then said, "I would hope so. Not everyone's parents are fundy assholes, bro."

I nodded and stared at the pictures. "Yeah." It wasn't so much Mat's mom I was worried about but his dad. Mat had seemed confident that his father was fine with our relationship, just a bit 'uptight'. What did that even mean, though? Would we have to sleep in separate beds when we visited? Not be able to hold hands in front of them? Mat had said that his dad knew that he'd dated guys before, but had Mat ever taken any of them home? Mat had spent most of his twenties on the move, never settling long, touring a lot, even before Rosa joined his band, so I doubted it, but…

There was still so much I didn't know. About Mat, and Rosa, and Mat's past, and...so many other things. That certainly went the other way, too.

We went back into the house, and I asked to use the bathroom and surreptitiously poured the rest of my beer down the sink and rinsed it down the drain with a shudder. I loved Craig, but if he ever offered me a light beer ever again I would have to seriously reconsider this whole best bro thing.

I could hear River upstairs splashing in the tub and squealing, while the twins played a game on the Xbox, and as Craig walked me to the front door I exclaimed, "The keys!" I dug the spare mail and house keys out of my pocket.

"Yeah," he chuckled as he took him. "What you came over for, right?"

"Well...sort of. I really wanted to tell you about me and Mat. I'm…" Sorry. Again.

He patted me on the shoulder. "Hey bro, no worries. Seriously."

"I just didn't want to put you in a weird position between me and him." Craig's smile turned into a grin as his eyes sparkled, and I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Oh my god."

He laughed and nudged me with his shoulder, nearly knocking me off my feet. I really needed to get back on track with the gym when I returned from Chicago. Exercise had always helped my mood, and I was going to need it then. I would have to check the hotels Amanda and I would be staying at on our trip and use the gyms if they had them. It would be all too easy to let my newly-formed habit slide.

As I headed home I looked at Mat's empty driveway. He was probably on his way back from his shopping trip to Boston. I wanted to talk to him, text him at least, but I didn't want to distract him while he was driving. I was very, very particular about no distractions while driving, for obvious reasons.

I was tempted to go sit outside his cafe and wait for him there, since he would have to drop everything off, but I didn't want to look needy. I most certainly was needy, but I didn't want to look it. I wished we didn't have to part for a week right after getting together, but my time with Amanda was my number one priority.

I would have plenty of time with him when I got back. I hoped. Carmensita would be around most of the time, and that couldn't help but put a damper on things. It wasn't sex but emotional intimacy that I craved, and that was hard to work on with someone else around. Mat went to bed so early too, with the cafe opening at 6:30 in the morning. A lot of his customers commuted into Boston, and he was a morning person by nature, which I was not. At all. That was mostly by habit though, and habits could be changed. Usually. With some effort.

Wasn't he worth the effort though? And if I started getting up earlier, maybe I could go to the gym with Craig in the mornings. Surely I could find the willpower to line up my schedule more closely with Mat's, to maximize the time we got to spend together, especially during these early days when we were still getting familiar with each other.

Surely I could.

No. I wasn't going to think like that. I could do it. I _would_ do it. Amanda wouldn't be home, so I wouldn't have to worry about waking her up in the mornings with moving around the house. I knew damn well that I was going to be sad when I came home and the reality of her not being there hit me. I had to stave off any threat of depression before it started, no matter how hard it was, and so I didn't dare spend my time sitting around a house that was too quiet. Empty.

That was what I would do, then. When I got home I'd start gradually shifting my schedule. I'd force myself out of bed a little earlier every day, and go to bed that much earlier every night, and once I was used to that routine I'd start going to the gym with Craig, who had let me know more than once that there was a standing invitation for that. I could go the gym in the mornings with Craig then go to the cafe on the way back to see Mat and get coffee and breakfast, then go home and work, then see him when he got home. Yes. I could do all that. It wasn't as if I'd never gotten up early in the past, back when I'd worked in an office, before striking out on my own.

There. It was decided. I just hoped I could stick to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by Slugette on Tumblr


	17. Chapter 17

_MAT: I miss you already_

I smiled at my phone, and Amanda rolled her eyes and said, "Jeez, you guys. I'm the teenager here." Her tone was affectionate though, her expression warm. "You're going to see each other in the morning, you know."

"I know," I murmured. "But that's many hours away."

"Twelve." She paused then admitted, "Okay, that is a lot. Carry on."

_MAT: Though to be fair I started missing you right after I left_

_ME: I miss you too. I know you're just right next door but it seems so far away_

Mat texted a kissy face emoji and something dangerously akin to a giggle slipped out of my mouth. Amanda let out a good-natured sigh.

_MAT: So I meant to ask you should we change our DadBook status_

I stared at the message in confusion. DadBook status...DadBook status... I hadn't checked DadBook all weekend. Not once. I hadn't had any notifications for it, and I'd been caught up in alternately thinking about Mat and getting ready to leave and dreading Amanda being gone.

_MAT: I was just thinking it would be nice that's all but if you don't want to yet I understand I mean it hasn't even really been 24 hrs so anyway let me know if it's too soon or if I'm going too fast and I'll back off so are you guys all packed up and ready to go make sure you stop by tomorrow morning and get coffee on your way out of town okay_

I frowned at the phone in sympathy. He had to be doing speech-to-text, because there was no way he could have typed all that in the space of ten seconds, and the lack of punctuation was always a glaring sign. What could he possibly be anxious about? DadBook status?

I opened DadBook to try to figure it out, and Robert had a new profile pic that looked a lot more professional than the sketchy selfies he usually took. Maybe Val? She was a professional photographer, though still trying to get herself established. Robert had shaved and was smiling, and not in a threatening way either. He looked really good. Handsome. Happier. Healthier. I hoped he was able to find someone someday. The poor guy had been alone so--

Ohhhh. _That_ DadBook status. Relationship status. I felt so dense.

_ME: Yes! We should definitely do that!_

_MAT: Do you mean the coffee or the status or maybe both_

_ME: Definitely both, but I meant the status. <3 <3 _

_MAT: Oh good that's good okay yeah let's do that then do you want to go first or should I do it because I could go first I don't mind_

I sighed and got up off the couch, excusing myself, and Amanda made a polite sound of acknowledgment and stretched out, taking the entire piece of furniture for herself as she continued watching our show. I didn't protest. It was her last night here.

I walked down the hall to my bedroom, dialing the phone as I went inside and shut my door. Mat quickly answered but didn't say hello right away, and I softly stated, "Whatever you want to do is fine. It's all right."

He blew out a breath and said with a bit of a quaver, "I'm being weird about this, aren't I. 'Cause I feel like I'm being weird."

"No you're not. You're absolutely not."

"You said you told Craig and that he was going to tell Brian, and Hugo and Damien know, but I don't think Robert and Joseph do, I mean, why would they if you didn't tell Craig until today, but it's not like we have to make a big announcement or anything, I just thought we could--"

"Mat honey, it's _fine_ ," I soothed. "Really." He fell silent, though I could hear him lick his lips on the other end. I realized what I had just called him, but so be it. I couldn't tell him I loved him, but I wanted him to know he was loved, and that I was there for him. I felt awful for him when he started getting wound all tight like that, even more so when it was related in some way to me. "Could I post one of our pictures?" I asked. "One of the ones Amanda took?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." He sounded much calmer now. I heard him draw in a long breath then slowly let it out. "Yeah, okay."

"Do you, um, want me to come over for a little bit?"

Mat laughed sheepishly. "No, no...I mean I do, of course I do, but...I know if you do I won't let you leave, so there's that."

"Oh no," I said in mock distress. "Whatever would I do?"

"I could think of a few things."

We both snickered. It was gross, and wonderful. His anxiety seemed to have passed now, and everything was fine.

I went to my computer and woke it up. "Here, I'll do it right now," I stated. "I'm putting you on speaker phone for a bit, so...be warned." I did so and hoped he didn't say anything too flirty. My house was small, and while I could hear that Amanda was still watching tv it didn't hurt to be discreet. While I waited I asked him, "When do you have to get to sleep?"

"Within the next half hour or so."

I shook my head. "I don't know how you manage. Getting up so early."

"Been doing it a long time. It was rough at first, especially...you know. Taking care of Carmensita on my own." His voice grew a little sad, but the loss was long enough ago to take the edge off. "Mom stayed with me for a long time after. And Gabby. That was when we got real close, since our kids are the same age. She's every bit as much a sister to me as if we'd been born to the same parents." He chuckled. "Man, that is too funny though, you thinking I had some kind of sordid something or other going on with her and Luis. I still can't get over that."

"I'm not one to judge. It's not as if I, um…" I cleared my throat. "Thought you were...doing… uh, both of them?"

Mat guffawed at that. It was just about the hardest I'd ever heard him laugh. It was such a beautiful sound. "What, you thought Luis was just looking the other way? Or just looking?"

I said in a small voice, "I really tried not to put much thought at all into it, thank you very much."

"Aw babe, I'm sorry," he said in apology, though he still sounded amused. "I'm not making fun, I swear."

"I know, it isn't that. I just..." I just couldn't make myself think about Mat with someone else. Mat didn't say anything. I hoped he wasn't worrying that he'd stuck his foot in his mouth. I explained, "I wasn't jealous. I'm not like that. I thought it was nice, that you...had someone. I'd rather you be with someone else than be alone, I mean, it wasn't as if I thought I had any...chance. I didn't even let myself think about it."

After several seconds Mat murmured, "You really didn't, did you. At all."

I shook my head, then realized he couldn't see that and grunted out a negative. I went to DadBook and logged in then changed my status to 'In a relationship with Mat Sella' and hit the button. There. Done. Our friends would all get notifications, if they had it set that way. I then posted the nicest picture of the two of us together at the kitchen counter, the one with my arm around him. I loved that one, even if my expression was a tiny bit sad. I hadn't meant for it to be.

"Mitchell," Mat mumbled in a woeful tone. "Not even a little?"

"No."

"Because you thought I was straight?"

"Partly. Or...just not into me. I mean you're...you, and I'm--"

"Don't go there, all right? Just don't go there." He drew in a breath and huffed through his nose, then he made a sound of pleasure. "Aw, the picture looks nice. Aw man, I like seeing that. 'In a relationship with Mat Sella'. So...there. All right."

I saw a notification, and clicked on it to see that Mat had changed his status to 'In a relationship with Mitchell Rivera' and changed his profile pic to one of the others of us together at the counter. "I like that too," I whispered. Then I saw our pictures and change in status both liked by Damien. The man didn't waste any time. Wow.

"I never thought to ask before, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but...what was your last name? Before you married Alex?"

That...was a question I hadn't expected. Not this soon. To be honest I hadn't expected it at all. "Um…"

"You don't have to," he repeated gently. "Just forget about it, all right?"

"No, it's...something we haven't talked about much. Um...here, just a sec…" I picked up the phone and took it off speaker, then lowered my voice. "I haven't used it in so long that I don't think about it much anymore. Um...it was Coleman. But I've never told Amanda what it was. Or told her anything about my parents that would help her find them, or my brothers. My mother probably doesn't have much of an online presence, she was a housewife, but my father...he uh...he's a cardiologist. Or was. And his father was a surgeon. My oldest brother became a doctor too, no idea what kind. My father's family has...money. A lot of it. Maybe that was how he shut up my mother, who knows. Threatened to cut her off. I've always thought maybe it was." Mat's breathing on the other end was uneven, stressed, and I added, "It used to make Alex angry too, but it's long over."

"It isn't over," he muttered. "At any point anyone in your family could've found you and made sure you were okay. One of your brothers. That they didn't, that they all just turned their backs--"

"My mother gave me money. Before I left." It had kept me fed, but it hadn't helped with shelter. Even back then motels had been reluctant to rent rooms without a credit card or driver's license, and unfortunately I hadn't had either at the time. And having that much cash on me had been terrifying in its own way.

"She did it because she knew what your dad was about to do. She didn't protect you. No one did. And you didn't leave. They put you out. A kid."

I sighed, "Mat honey, please don't get--"

"By putting you out on the street they left you to _die_ ," he stressed. "That's exactly what they fucking did. I just…" He made a sound of helpless anger. "I know it happens, but it shouldn't, _ever_ , and god damn, how in the hell do they live with themselves?"

"I don't know. Not well, one would hope." Mat huffed irritably, and I said, "I know it's fresh for you, but this was nearly 30 years ago. I can't keep being angry. I stopped being angry a long time ago. I had to. I couldn't live like that. I'll never forgive them, any of them, not as long as I live, but it isn't something I think about every day, and I hope you won't either."

"It's going to be really damn hard not to."

"I just...would really like it if we didn't talk about it? Please?" He grumbled, and I added, "I can't. I can't revisit all this again at this point in my life. _Please_. It...it doesn't help."

Mat whispered, "Yeah. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He blew out a loud, long breath, then another. "I didn't mean to drag it up."

"I know. It's all right. And I guess I was the one who brought it up first last night, but…" I was done. I didn't want to rehash it. Yes, I was always going to struggle with my mental health because of how I was raised, but I had gotten help for it, and I would get more if I thought I needed it, and it wasn't as if every day was a struggle. Things had just been harder than usual since Alex died, but once Mat and I settled things would get better again. I was at least at the point where I could believe that.

After several seconds of quiet he asked, "You're going with me for Thanksgiving, right? To meet my parents? Since I actually have good ones?"

"Yes, but...you're sure your dad is okay with it?" _With me. With us_. I was anxious as hell about meeting them, and I wasn't an anxious person by nature, but meeting your partner's parents was enough to fill anyone with dread. It would have even if I were straight and had been raised in a normal, loving family.

"Yeah, yeah, of course he is. I mean, he said we could have the guest bedroom and the girls can sleep on the hideabed, so...that's pretty okay."

"Oh," I murmured, relieved. A little.

"Did you think they were going to make us sleep in different rooms? Or stay at a hotel?"

"I tried not to think about it too much."

Mat was silent for such a long time that I worried the call had dropped, and I held the phone away from my ear and the screen turned on, showing he was still there. I didn't say anything either, letting him work out whatever it was that he seemed to be struggling with.

He finally said in an uncertain tone, "You said you never let yourself think about being with me before, but...you do now, right? Think about the future?"

God, why did he have to ask me that? I didn't want to lie to him.

"Right?" he pressed. He did it gently, as he did most everything, but there was definite worry in his voice.

I had to give him something, no matter how inadequate it ended up being. "I...thought...um, earlier today...I could start getting up earlier. To go to the gym with Craig in the mornings then stop and have breakfast with you on the way back. And see you...after. After you're done with work." I knew damn well that wasn't what he meant. I had to give him something though, no matter how inadequate it was.

"That isn't...that isn't what I meant," he mumbled, sounding softly frustrated. "Can I...come over? For just a little while?"

"Mat--"

"Please?"

God, I was chronically incapable of saying no to the man, especially when he pleaded like that. I said, "Yes, of course, but I don't see--"

"Meet me in your backyard?"

I sighed through my nose. "All right."

"Okay. See you in a bit." He hung up.

I stood and put my phone in my pocket and groaned. We hadn't been together even 24 hours yet and we were already going to have a talk? I was glad that he was taking our relationship so seriously, but he was taking it a bit _too_ seriously considering I was the one with stronger feelings. I didn't want to discuss why I tried not to think about our future. I was tired of always being the one having his psyche examined. I always had been, even with Alex.

I left my room and stopped in the hallway to see my daughter still lounging on the couch, and I said to her, "I'm going in the backyard to hang out with Mat for awhile." Amanda nodded and waved her hand languidly at me, not taking her eyes off the tv. Wow. Considering how new my relationship was, she sure had gotten used to it quickly.

I went through the laundry room, out to the backyard. The sun was setting at this time of night, the days a little shorter, but it was warm out, if a bit humid. I headed for the wooden bench under the cherry tree, and I idly thought that I really needed to get some cushions for it next spring. I stayed standing, looking at the bench, and the cherry tree behind it, and the pond beyond that. A pair of robins were drinking from it, filling up before finding somewhere to roost for the night, and I could hear others singing as they tended to do at this time in the evening. It was really pretty out here, even as unfinished as the yard was.

A thrill of dread went through me when I heard the latch of the gate. Stupid. This was stupid, that we were having to do this already. Twenty hours. We had only been together about 20 hours and already Mat felt compelled to come over and talk to me about why I wasn't sitting around daydreaming about our future.

I folded my arms tightly and tried not to scowl. I wasn't angry with Mat, but I wasn't happy about this at all. It felt like I was getting called on the carpet for some failing of mine. It brought up old feelings that I didn't appreciate at all, and that wasn't Mat's fault.

I heard his footsteps coming across the patio, then the grass, then they...stopped. I heard him draw in a shaky breath as he fidgeted a few feet behind me. I could hear his thumb flicking across the wooden beads around his wrist.

"You uh...maybe...maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," he said, his tone hesitant. "I'm not calling you out. Like I said this morning. I swear." I nodded, not answering or turning around to look at him. "Could you just…" He huffed and walked around to look at me. "You're mad," he mumbled in sad dismay.

I shook my head. "No I'm not," I stated.

"Then what? 'Cause you look mad."

I tried to control my expression and most likely failed, refusing to look at him.

"Could you please just...just tell me what you're thinking then. I uh…" Mat swallowed. "I'd rather have you mad at me and say so than...this. You're right there, but it's like you're a thousand miles away. I know you're just trying to avoid a confrontation, but it isn't like we're going to fight or I'm going to crumble or anything."

I rubbed my hand over my face then left it there. I hated this. Alex had always disliked it when I got like this, but he had learned early on when to press and when to leave things alone. Alex had respected the Turtle Shell. It wasn't a facet of my personality that I was proud of, and Mat and I hadn't been together long enough for him to know how to handle it. I lived with myself 24/7 and I didn't know how to most of the time.

Mat added, "This isn't even a confrontation. I came over because I'm worried. And I know I worry way too much, and about things I probably shouldn't worry about, but…I can't help worrying about this. About you. I don't worry about us, or the future, but...you, so… could you at least tell me why? Why you don't think about it?"

I began, "I…" I cleared my throat. "I don't… I can't. It isn't a matter of trust or not wanting a uh… future, with you, I just… I never...all this time, the last four months, I've had to…" God, this was hard to get out. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I didn't want him to feel bad either. "I kept telling myself over and over again, for months on end, that there was no chance at all. Of anything. With you. And now apparently there is, and I can't...make the shift. Yet. I don't know how to make myself do that."

Mat sighed, "Oh...oh hell, babe. I get it now. I'm sorry."

I felt his arms go around me, and the tension instantly rushed out of me as I returned the embrace. He smelled and felt as nice as he had earlier today when he left for Boston.

"I took all this too fast," he said with regret.

I shook my head. "No." But also kind of yes. I could have put on the brakes at any point last night though, and I hadn't.

"I should've known it was something like that. I can't imagine what that was like for you, thinking all summer that I wasn't into you, then you get blindsided last night. I wish…I wish I could go back and do things differently. I know I can't and I didn't know what I was doing or how things were with you, but still…"

"I just need some time to get used to everything."

"We could slow things down if--"

I made a grunting sound of refusal and held him tighter. Hell no. We'd both been alone long enough. Slowing things down wouldn't make it so that we weren't together, but I wasn't about to take any steps backwards. Not after spending the night together.

"All right," he murmured, sounding relieved.

We held each other for nearly a minute in silence, Mat rubbing my back. I finally said in a small voice, "Alex and I...we had so many plans." Vacations that we were going to take. Retirement. I had only been able to get as far as the house and then I'd stalled.

"Yeah, I bet you did." He let go of me enough to give me a tender kiss, then he took my hand and gave it a gentle pull, and we sat down close to each other on the bench, holding hands. "Me and Rosa, we got about as far as saving for the coffee shop. That took up all our attention, that and Carmensita. I don't know what's worse: never getting the time to make plans, or making them and…not getting to do them." He rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. "I was thinking...maybe next month we could get away for a weekend? Towards the end of September when the crowds have cleared out. There are some nice bed and breakfasts on the Cape. Maybe Brian could watch Carmensita for the weekend. We've been trying to get the girls to click since day one. Amanda helped a lot with that, but…"

But she'd be gone tomorrow. It was so hard to believe we were actually leaving tomorrow.

I nodded. "I'd like that." I hesitated then kissed his cheek. I was looking forward to the day when I didn't hesitate before showing him affection. When it felt natural. I had to give it time. We hadn't done this in the normal way, the way Alex and I had, by dating first. We probably hadn't done this the right way at all, but we had both been so sad and lonely that we'd dived headfirst into it, and now we had to go back and fill in all the spaces that we'd skipped over.

Mat stayed for another twenty minutes or so, the two of us talking and leaning against each other. He talked about how he usually closed the cafe the entire week of Thanksgiving so he and Carmensita could spend it in Atlanta with his parents, and when he asked if I could manage the entire week down there I of course said yes. How could I say no? He seemed confident that his parents wanted me there and wouldn't be weird about our relationship, at least not beyond the initial awkwardness of getting used to it. I didn't know if Amanda would be joining us at all, let alone for a week, but I could do it.

He wanted me to go up to Boston with him and Carmensita the weekend after I got back from Chicago, to visit Gabriela and feel things out with that side of the family, and I agreed to that too. In some ways that visit would be harder. Rosa's family was big, and close-knit, and it would hurt to see the kind of family that Alex should have had. That he used to have. Mat talked about Carmensita's 12th birthday in October, and how he could use my help planning her party, and of course I said he would have it, and he mentioned that it would be nice if I went trick or treating with them a few weeks after that, which I also agreed to. He asked me to think about what we might do for Christmas, and how Amanda would be home during that time. He suggested going somewhere warm for his birthday in early February, and maybe going to DC in April to see the cherry trees blooming and take Carmensita to the Smithsonian. Yes and yes.

He told me that when I got back from taking Amanda to Chicago that he would sing me the song that he had written for me again. He then brought up next month's open mic night at the Coffee Spoon, and said that maybe he could be convinced to play again, if I sang with him. That was just… so incredibly flattering.

I knew what Mat was doing. I didn't think he was trying to hide it, but it was pretty obvious, and I loved him for it, and...maybe it was working. I had things to look forward to that didn't revolve around my daughter. Things that would build on a future with Mat.

I walked him home and kissed him goodnight at his door, and hard as it was we managed to tear ourselves away from each other. He had to get up at the crack of dawn, and he didn't like leaving Carmensita alone for long, though she was doing some math practice on her tablet and probably didn't even remember that he was gone.

Amanda lifted her legs enough for me to take back my spot on the couch, then laid them over my lap, all without missing a beat, and I welcomed the last bit of snuggling at home. I settled in with my phone while she watched her show, and saw that there were DadBook notifications.

When I opened the app I saw that all our neighbors had liked my new status, and Mat's. They'd liked our pictures too.

All except Joseph.

I read through the congratulatory replies to both of us, but there was nothing from Joseph, and the app showed that he was there, on mobile, and had been for the last fifteen minutes. I responded to the happy replies, as did Mat, before I saw him sign out. He sent me a sweet goodnight text message, and I responded in kind.

Morning came and there was still nothing from Joseph, even though it looked like he had been active on DadBook then too, and it left me with the same uneasy feeling as his invitation to go out on his boat back in June. He was such a nice guy, though. We'd had a great time making brownies with the kids back in April, making margaritas in May, talking over the backyard fence, sitting on his front steps drinking iced tea, planning Amanda's party… He had been a fantastic neighbor and so kind and understanding of my loss, and I'd enjoyed spending time with him, just as much as I had all the other guys. If his gaze had lingered a bit too long at times, or his hand on my shoulder had done the same, well, I had put it down to feeling sorry for me.

Funny, really, how all that had just...stopped, after my refusal to go on the boat.

What if he had misunderstood my friendliness? I could see why I had thought Hugo misunderstood, before our first charcuterie. We'd accidentally brushed fingers a couple times in the touch tank at the aquarium and he'd blushed and laughed, but he blushed as easily as I did, no matter how pale I was. But what if Joseph really had misunderstood our interactions?

Which brought up a second, more horrifying thought: if he had misunderstood, and thought I was into him, what had he planned to do about it? Why had he kept at me to go out on his boat with him, just the two of us, and had acted almost like he was pouting about it afterward?

No. So much no. Endless amounts of no.

And what if...what if that was at the root of the problems between him and Mary? What if Joseph had done this before? With other people? With other guys?

And that brought me to: why did Robert dislike and shun Joseph? I knew Robert liked men, because he'd tried to turn to me for the kind of comfort I hadn't felt comfortable giving, not when I knew Robert was troubled, and not when I had feelings for Mat. Robert and I had worked it out right away, and I was more than glad to help and be a friend. But what if Joseph had had an affair with Robert? What if that was why the two ignored each other's existence? Robert's wife Marilyn had died about four years ago. What if Joseph had taken advantage of Robert's grief at some point since then, and Mary resented him for not only the affair but that too, and felt bad for Robert for the same reasons? Mary seemed really protective of Robert.

There was just too much to unpack there. Joseph had seemed fine since my refusal to go boating, if distant, more neighborly than friendly, and he hadn't offered to hang out since then. Now that I thought about it though...he didn't hang out with _any_ of the other dads, outside of barbecues. Not that I knew of.

A shiver went through me as Amanda and I loaded the car. I could talk to Robert about this, if I really wanted to know. I wasn't so sure I did.

My daughter and I both started crying when we got in the car, before I could even back out of the driveway, but we managed to pull ourselves together and drive around the corner to the Coffee Spoon.

Pablo was behind the counter, and Mat came hurrying out from the kitchen with Carmensita on his heels. He had two to-go bags for us full of baked goods, and a matching pair of really nice stainless steel travel mugs for the road. When had he found the time to get those? In Boston, maybe?

God, he was the sweetest thing. Ever. I couldn't believe how thoughtful he was.

The girls talked about the upcoming trip and Pablo made our coffees to put into the mugs while Mat took my hand and led me back into the kitchen, where he pulled me into a tight hug.

"I'm going to miss you so damn much," he whispered.

"I'll miss you too," I replied, giving him a squeeze. I'd only be gone about a week, but it felt like I was leaving for a month. Maybe part of that was that I couldn't imagine coming home without my daughter. My mind balked at the idea. I just couldn't see past dropping her off at her dorm.

"Please call me. As much as you want, I don't care what time it is."

I nodded but didn't give him any platitudes. I would try, and that was the best I could do. I heard a text notification ping in my pocket but ignored it for now. This was more important, this wonderful, beautiful man that I was going to miss like crazy. It was hard, wanting the week to go by quickly so I could get back home to him, but also wanting the week to never end, so that I could stay with my daughter.

"You got a text," Mat murmured.

"Yeah." I didn't move though, squeezing him again, and he sighed and held me tight.

"You're going to drive careful, right?"

"I always do." I pulled back and kissed him. "But I'll be extra careful."

"Good."

We held each other a bit longer, and as we did I heard Pablo out front trying to chat with Amanda. The poor kid. It went about as well as it ever did, and Pablo quickly backed off, as he always did. He had some rough edges, but he was a good kid, respectful. He never crossed a line that I felt needed to be dealt with. Maybe I was overprotective at times, but I wasn't one of those dads who went overboard and scared guys away from my daughter. There was something more than a little creepy about fathers who felt like they had to safeguard their daughters' chastity. Amanda's body was her own, and all I could do was be open with her and make sure that she knew I was there for her to talk to no matter what.

When it came time to go, Mat and Carmensita walked us out to the car. Mat and his daughter hugged Amanda and wished her luck, and Amanda promised to video chat with her and stay in touch. She gave me a hug as well, which was awfully adorable. She was such a sweet kid.

Then Mat was hugging me again, and I murmured, "We could do video calls while I'm gone. I'm taking my laptop."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he answered. "Didn't even occur to me until now. We'll try to figure it out tonight?"

"Yes. Definitely." I kissed him, more a smooch than anything, but it felt nice to be openly affectionate out here. Everyone knew Mat, and he wasn't shying away from letting people know we were together. It was so great.

I checked my phone real quick, just in case it was something I needed to deal with before I left. It was from an unknown number, someone who wasn't in my contacts. "Huh," I murmured.

"Who is it?"

"No idea." I opened the text, and...wow.

_UNKNOWN: Hey nerd, this is Mary. Dames told me about you and coffee guy. Congrats. I'm happy for you two, I mean it._

_UNKNOWN: If you guys ever want to adopt some cats, you know where to go. ;)_

"Wow," Mat whispered.

"No kidding." That was really nice of her though.

_ME: Thanks Mary! We really appreciate it. I'm looking into getting a couple cats when I get back. I'll let you know!_

She responded with a thumbs up emoji. Mary was all right. I added her to my contacts.

Mat murmured in a baffled tone, "Damien told her?" I nodded with a grunt as I messed with my phone. "Joseph was on DadBook last night. And this morning. He has to know. So why didn't _he_ tell her?" He frowned then added, "Or congratulate us? He was there but...nothing."

I nibbled at my bottom lip, frowning, and slipped the phone in my pocket. "Yeah, about that…" I glanced at the girls, but they were doing something with Amanda's phone. Carmensita had a very basic flip phone that could text and make phone calls, and that was it. I pitied the poor child, but she wasn't my daughter, and Mat was even more protective than I was. "Something uh...odd happened. Right before Amanda's graduation. With, um, Joseph."

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "Odd how?"

I hesitated. "Nothing bad, just...odd."

"Tell me tonight?" Mat muttered, looking uneasy.

The girls were looking at us now, as if sensing something was off. Neither Mat or I wanted to get into it with them there, and if we didn't get going soon we'd be lucky to make it to Buffalo by nightfall. I wanted to get there early enough in the afternoon that we'd have the chance to explore around our hotel Canalside. Tomorrow was Niagara Falls, and I didn't want to try to cram too much into any one day. We had to go.

But that meant leaving Mat.

My distress must have been obvious. Mat gave me one last hug, patted Amanda on the shoulder, then gently herded me towards my car. "Call me tonight," he said. "And send me lots of pics, all along the way. Or send me the link to your photo albums."

"I will," I whispered. Carmensita started sniffling as she clung to Amanda, which started to set Amanda off, which then got me going as well.

"Oh man, no," Mat said in a tight voice. "C'mon babe, don't, or I'll start too, and I've got to go back to work."

I managed to take several deep breaths and fend off tears. I didn't want to leave Mat with that last mental image of me. I smiled at him as best I could, gave him one last kiss, then got in the car. Amanda was able to pry Carmensita off and get in as well, and it was with relief that I saw that she had the precious baked goods. Good girl. She had her priorities straight.

Mat moved back onto the sidewalk and put his arm around his daughter. They were so cute, standing together in their glasses, Carmensita in her braces. We all waved at each other.

_Come on, Mitchell. Put the car in Drive and go. One week. It's only one week_.

I put the car into Drive and went. It was only one week.

Maybe it was only one week, but when I returned nothing would be the same.


	18. Chapter 18

 

"No webcam?" I repeated in disbelief.

"No webcam," Mat sighed.

Carmensita piped up in a disgruntled tone, "Which means no video chat."

"How old is your laptop?"

Mat said, "Um...it still has Windows XP?"

"Oh  _ Mat _ ," I said in a pitying tone. "XP? Really?"

He laughed and replied, "Is this payback for me making fun of you for 'Wonderwall' back in May?"

"I will defend 'Wonderwall' unto my dying breath."

"I haven't needed a new laptop. I just use it for keeping the shop's books and Carmensita's homework. I'm not as technologically savvy as you, babe."

"Gross, Dad," Carmensita said in the background.

" _ Anyway _ ...maybe it's time to get a new one."

"Yay!" Carmensita cheered.

"But...it might have to wait until you get back."

Carmensita groaned in disappointment.

I said in understanding, "That's fine. You could ask Damien for advice, but you might end up with something more than you need." Damien loved his tech, for obvious reasons. He hid it well, but any of us that were good friends with him knew his not-so-dirty secret. I was a little disappointed that I'd have to wait a week to lay eyes on Mat again, but at least he had a newer smartphone and knew how to use it. We'd just have to send each other pictures.

"So hey, while I'm sitting here, give me the username for your photo albums so I can see pictures of your vacation. I need to bookmark it."

"Sure." I gave him the information, ignoring the little clutch of loss I felt in my heart. There wasn't any way to give him access to newer photos without him having access to the old ones too, and they were all there, two decades worth of them, some even older, from college. Not that I didn't want him to look at them. There wasn't any reason he couldn't, and maybe...maybe if he was given ample opportunity to poke around in there on his own, he wouldn't ask to look at them together.

"Ohh," I heard him sigh. "Right."

Well that hadn't taken long.

"Hey, these are nice, Mitchell," Mat said softly. "Is it okay…"

"Yeah," I whispered. I'd put them up to look at. That was what the pictures were there for.

His voice turned away from the phone as he said, "Hey Carmensita honey, why don't you go read or something for a bit." His daughter made a pouting sound of reluctance but after a few seconds I heard the door close then the phone taken off speaker. "Where's Amanda?"

"Down in the pool. She met a pair of twins Canalside and found out they're staying in our hotel, so they're down swimming and hopefully not terrorizing anyone." Mat chuckled at that. "You probably have to go to bed soon," I guessed.

"Not too soon." There was a rustle and a huff of breath. Maybe he was lying on his bed. "So," he murmured. "Something weird happened with Joseph a couple months ago, huh? Weird how?"

Oh boy. I'd sort of hoped he would forget about it. I'd forgotten about it over the course of the day. We'd had such a fun trip so far, lots of singing and talking, about mostly happy things. The subject had strayed into uncomfortable areas for me, things I would've been happy to let lie, but I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't keep shielding her so much. I'd never give her details about my family that would allow her to find them, but I could at least tell her a bit more about my childhood, while making certain she understood just how very dead my family was to me. There was absolutely no chance of reconciliation there, and Amanda was now very aware of that, if she hadn't already been.

When I didn't answer right away, Mat said in a lowered, uneasy voice, "'Cause...man, I shouldn't say anything, but… Did he come on to you?"

Wow, talk about cutting to the chase. "Not in so...uh, many words?" I said with a wince he couldn't see. Mat grunted, displeased. "He kept pushing me to go out on his boat. A few days before Amanda's graduation party. He was...weird about it. I had too much going on, and… it just felt... _ weird _ , so I begged off. He acted a little put out afterward, and ever since he's been kind of distant." It was a shame, too. I'd really liked Joseph. He seemed unhappy, but basically a nice guy. He wasn't anywhere near as unhappy as Mary though. 

"Yeah, that boat," Mat muttered. "The one he never seems to take his family out on. See, that's… Promise me you won't tell Robert we talked about this."

"Oh god, there was something between him and Robert, wasn't there," I breathed.

"Yeah. They used to go out on the boat. Spent a lot of time together, maybe a year or so after he lost his wife. Things got really tense in the Christiansen household for a while. Then they had Crish." He grumbled. "I don't know if the baby was the price Mary paid for Joseph to stay or what. She never seemed happy about having another kid. Robert just about disappeared for months after that. Barely left his house, started keeping weird hours, drinking even more than before. He's been a lot better lately though. Maybe you've been a good influence on him."

"Oh, I don't know," I mumbled. "I just listened." It wasn't my place to talk about what had happened between me and Robert. Where Joseph had pushed, Robert had immediately backed off and apologized. Then cried. God, it still broke my heart to think about how he'd cried. I didn't fool myself that Robert had wanted a relationship. He'd just wanted comfort and had picked the kind that men sometimes picked, when they didn't feel like talking it out. He'd just happened to try it with someone who had forced him to talk it out instead.

"Well hey, I'm glad you didn't go out on the boat," Mat said with mixed relief and dread. "If Joseph doesn't want to be faithful then he should just be honest with her. It isn't fair to either of them if he's doing what he seems to be doing, and it's  _ really  _ unfair to Mary. Sometimes I think Mary befriended Robert just to stick the knife into Joseph, you know? But she and Robert hit it off, and they've been tight ever since."

I made a sound of assent. I wasn't sure how Mary and Robert would feel about me telling Mat anything more. I did want to get Robert out again though, once I got back. We really needed to go on another of those ghost tours. That had been a ridiculous amount of fun. Robert and I made a good team. The sweet tee shirts had just been the cherry on top. I never had told Mat about how Robert had said the Coffee Spoon was haunted and slowly driving Mat mad. That had been just about the funniest thing I'd ever heard.

It was quiet for a moment, then Mat murmured, "I really miss you."

"I miss you too, l-love." I stumbled over the word as I impulsively said it then caught myself then said to hell with it and finished it out. Mat either didn't notice, or didn't want to call attention to it. I was glad for that.

"I'll never get tired of you calling me that," he said warmly. "These pictures are...wow. So great. I'm uh...starting at the beginning, if that's okay."

I didn't know what to say at first. I hadn't realized he was still looking at the photos. He must have the laptop on his bed. The very first album I had posted was from when Amanda was still little, but I had them all dated and clearly labeled so it would have been easy enough for him to find the oldest pictures, the ones I'd had scanned and had touched up and posted.

Mat laughed and cooed, "You were so damn cute." He guffawed loudly. "Look at those frosted tips, man! The both of you. Classic." He laughed again. "I'm going to have to get Mom to dig out some of my old photos and show them to you when we visit my parents. I went through this Fresh Prince phase my senior year, and my dad would come into my room and take one look at me getting ready to go out and spin on his heel and walk back out."

I couldn't help but laugh at that, Mat's humor stopping any sadness before it could begin.

He went on, "The old man always knew how to pick his battles. He knew my tracksuits weren't the hill he wanted to die on."

I laughed even more loudly at that, trying to imagine it. I couldn't picture him any way other than he was now, or in his old Stillness the Dancing days.

"Ah man, good memories," Mat sighed, still sounding amused. "Only kid, you know? Totally spoiled. Mom and Dad couldn't have any others. Mom nearly died having me, and Dad loved her too much to want to risk it again."

"I didn't know that," I stated. "I knew you were an only, but..."

"Would've liked to have brothers and sisters. Rosa and I were going to start trying for another when we found out. Got to say I'm glad we waited."

I murmured sadly, "I imagine so."

"Why didn't you and Alex have more?"

"We talked about it. The time never seemed right, and we both came from bigger families. We wanted to focus on just Amanda, and each other. Then we talked about fostering, but...I just didn't think I was in the right place mentally for that, neither of us did, and by time I started feeling better Alex was traveling a lot, and...it just never worked out." I was still sitting in front of my laptop, but the screen had gone dark. I hit the Space key to turn it back on and went to look at the pictures. They brought up a well of sadness, but not an unbearable one. It helped, talking to Mat about it. "We uh...we were so afraid at first that the state would take Amanda back from us," I mumbled. "Or her birth mother would change her mind. I don't think we really relaxed until after her first birthday." We had been together for years before we took her home, and had married first chance we got, when she was still little. There was a wedding and honeymoon album in there too, somewhere.  _ That  _ I could not bear to look at.

"I can see why." Mat added with a smile in his voice, "God, look at what a babyface you had. When did you stop getting carded, anyway?"

"When I started going gray. Earlier than you'd think." I chuckled. "But yeah, I had a total babyface. Alex did a bit too, but...we were just kids when we got together. I was 23 and he was 24." Had I ever mentioned that to him? I wasn't sure that I had.

"Twenty-two years together? Wow," Mat whispered.

We talked for another half an hour, and somehow I managed not to get too choked up when he asked questions about Alex, about how we'd met, about some of the vacations we'd gone on, about where we'd gotten married, about Amanda's birth mother, and so on. It was...easier, this way. If we had been with each other, I would have wanted to be held, and I probably would have started crying, but this gave just enough distance to make it bearable. It was the first time that I'd really been able to talk about it, other than the little bit I'd shared with Damien.

We talked a bit about when Craig and I had lived together, and some of the crazy shit we had done in college, and that had been a lot easier to talk about. I was glad he ended things on that note. It helped. There were a few pictures of Craig in some of the older albums, so I pointed him to those, and Mat found them even more hilarious than the old pictures of me.

It felt...good though. I was okay, looking at the pictures while I talked to Mat, as Mat looked at them too, hundreds of miles away. Sad, but not unbearably so. Not about to break down, or crawl into bed and tune everything out. We said our goodnights, in a sweet and sappy way, then we signed off.

I was okay, and maybe it was because of Mat. Having something to look forward to. Someone to take care of, as much as he would let me, and maybe someone to take care of me.

No. No maybe about it. We had taken care of each other, even when we were just friends. Now that we were more than that, I imagined it would be even more so. I would help him with his anxiety, and he would help me with my depression when it reared its ugly head, and we would help each other to be less lonely. I just had to keep at this until my brain could accept that I was in a relationship and that Mat loved me and intended to stick around.

God, that sounded awful even in my own head. If Alex had loved me, surely Mat would someday. I wasn't unlovable. Alex had loved me for 22 years. Had never stopped loving me, any more than I had ever stopped loving him. I didn't love Mat anywhere near the way I had loved Alex, not yet, and how could I? But I would someday. If we made it that long.

_ Stop it, Mitchell. That's sad and pathetic and you just need to stop it. _

I listened to the sensible voice and closed my browser and put my laptop to sleep then got up and put on the one set of workout clothes I had brought with me and forced myself to go to the hotel's gym, texting Amanda on the way to let her know where I was. I didn't expect an answer right away, but she needed to know.

Exercising at night wasn't my thing, but there was no one else there, which was great, and running a few miles while listening to Mat's music would quiet my mind. Maybe when we got home he could record the song he'd written for me and I could put that on my phone too.

For me. The man I loved had written a song for  _ me _ . How many people could say that?

I hung onto that thought for all I was worth while I tried to outrun my demons, if only for a little while.

* * *

_ PANDA: I love you, Pop! I'll call you first thing when I wake up tomorrow, I promise! _

Amanda had sent the text half an hour ago, while I was on the phone with Mat, and I'd replied already, but I couldn't stop staring at it. I was still in Chicago, at my hotel, so we were still in the same city, but tomorrow I would start heading home, and each mile would take me further and further from my daughter.

I swallowed down the thickness in my throat. She was happy. Amanda was over-the-moon happy, and that was all that mattered. She had what seemed to be a really nice roommate that she had already hit it off with, of course, and had navigated everything the last couple days with confidence. The move into her room had gone smoothly yesterday, and we had explored the city today a little together, and maybe we had both started crying when I said goodbye to her after dinner but I had seen a lot of other parents crying too. Just about all of the parents of freshmen had been.

The gym. Time to hit the gym, no matter how late it was.

I worked out my mood, and maybe I wasn't happy afterward, but I wasn't terribly sad either. All of my friends had sent me DadBook messages or texted me during the week, even Mary, all of which had helped enormously, so I was doing okay. For now. I'd have to keep busy, that was all. Keep going to the gym, keep texting. Keep my mind from circling around and around itself, which was always the precursor to it circling around and down the drain. 

I went to bed, much too late, after doing word jumbles on my phone for a while and nearly draining the battery, then I plugged in the charger and turned on my sound machine and just about passed out. Passing out was good.

I had to admit, when I woke the next morning I felt pretty great. I had gotten solid sleep, dreamless sleep, and a glance at the clock showed that it was 9:27. Wow. Even my lazy ass rarely slept in that late. I definitely felt rested, though. The sadness poked at me when I looked at the other double bed and didn't see my child there, but I knew that she was probably having a great time right now, settling into her room and getting to know her roommate Grace. Grace had seemed a sweet girl, a bit shy, but that might be the best fit for my somewhat extroverted daughter, in much the same way that Craig and I had clicked.

I closed my eyes for a couple minutes more, enjoying how cozy I felt, in no rush to go anywhere. I could hear traffic outside, even though it was Sunday morning. The trip had taken a day longer than we had expected, but we'd gotten sidetracked shopping in Amish country, to the south of Cleveland. I had a gorgeous new quilt to remember the trip by. It had purple in it, Mat's favorite color, and bits of orange, which was mine. I'd picked up souvenirs for Mat and Carmensita as well, and Daisy for watering my plants and lawn, and Briar and Hazel for checking the mail. It had been a wonderful trip, one of the best vacations we had ever been on, even if her other dad was there only in spirit. Alex would have loved every minute of it.

Traffic. Outside. Why was it so quiet in my room?

I rolled over and grabbed my phone to see why the sound app wasn't on. Oh no. No no no.  _ Dead _ . It was deader than a doornail. I had somehow managed to not get the charging cord plugged in all the way last night, and the phone had died at some point.

My first thought was:  _ Mat is going to freak out _ .

I plugged in the cord and made sure it was solidly seated in the port, and the indicator light came on to show it was charging. The sad thing was, I had no idea what Mat's phone number was. I had no idea what  _ anyone's  _ number was but Amanda's. 

Christ on a cracker. How did I not know anyone's numbers?!

Amanda at least knew which hotel I was staying at, so she could always call the front desk and ask for me if there was an emergency. She was a smart girl. But I hadn't exactly given Mat an itinerary. He didn't know which hotel I was staying at, and I hadn't thought to mention it, and he hadn't asked. It hadn't been anything he'd needed to know. I really, really hoped his anxiety didn't push him to start calling all the hotels within a mile radius of the college.

Oh god. That sounded exactly like something Mat would do.

All right then. There was nothing for it but to get up and take a shower while my phone charged. I didn't know if Amanda was up yet and didn't want to wake her, so I wouldn't call her on the room phone. And the Coffee Spoon was closed on the weekends, so I couldn't look up the cafe's number and call Mat there. My loved ones would just have to wait.

I got out clean clothes and packed up everything else. I could hear the cleaning staff's cart down the hall. Checkout time wasn't for another hour and a half. I had time to shower and go eat breakfast while my phone charged. I wasn't about to call Mat with anything less than a solid 15% battery life under my belt.

I showered and dressed and hung up the Do Not Disturb sign on the outer door handle then I ran downstairs to grab something to eat before breakfast ended. It was really damn expensive for what I considered a continental breakfast, but I was starving and in a hurry. I could be cheap on the way home.

When I returned to my room I had a good 18%, and I could leave the phone plugged in while I talked. I turned it on, wincing as I braced myself.

Oh boy.

Eight texts. Five calls. All within the last hour.  _ Oh Mat _ . I scrolled through the series of texts, seeing each one going up a notch on the worry scale. I didn't bother listening to the voicemails. They would only be verbal versions of the texts.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. No calls from my daughter, but she might not be up yet, especially if she and Grace had been up talking late or hanging out with other students. The dorm building had some amazing public areas, and smaller quiet study areas as well as places to engage in a dozen different kinds of art. How I wished I had gone to a school like that instead of getting a business degree. Well, with Amanda gone maybe I could take some art classes at the local community college. People of all ages went there, so I wouldn't feel out of place. God knew I'd have time on my hands, even with Mat in my life.

Before I could make the call, the phone rang.

I gritted my teeth and answered. I barely drew in a breath to speak before it started.

"Jesus, Mitchell, where have you been?" Mat asked in a distressed voice.

"I--"

"I called at least a dozen times--"

"Five actually," I stated. Maybe he had counted the texts too.

He continued as if he hadn't heard me. Maybe he hadn't. "And it went straight to voicemail every time, and I had no goddamn idea where you were staying and all I could think about was you in bed depressed in some hotel room a thousand miles away not answering your phone or maybe you even turned it off because why else would it just go straight to voicemail like that--"

"Mat."

"Then I thought about calling Amanda but I didn't want to worry her 'cause god knows I worry enough for ten people…"

I found myself smiling as he went on like that for a while. I felt bad for him and couldn't imagine what he was feeling, what he'd been feeling for the last hour, but...god he cared. So much. For me. I couldn't believe how worried he was for me. But then again I could. My first thought upon discovering my phone was dead was that Mat would worry. How was it possible that this wonderful man cared so much for me?

"I love you," I murmured. I really did, and...and I just had to say it, right at that moment. I loved him so much. We'd talked about so many things this week, things we hadn't had the chance to talk about in person before I left, had grown so much closer while the physical distance between us increased. Maybe in a way this trip had been a boon for our relationship. It was too easy to start getting handsy when we were together, and this way all we could do was talk.

"What?" Mat gasped.

Well that was one way to get him to stop. "You heard me." I wasn't quite brave enough to repeat myself.

"I...yeah, I...I did, but…" He sounded bewildered. "And that...that really…" His breath whooshed out. "That means  _ so  _ much to me babe, you have no idea. But...you didn't answer. I kept calling and texting and--"

"My phone was dead. I didn't get the charger plugged in right and it died overnight. I'm fine, really."

"Okay," he whispered. He let out a shaky breath. "All right."

"I didn't wake up until 9:30. I saw my phone was dead and knew you would worry, but, and I'm not proud to admit this, I don't know anyone's number by heart but Amanda's. All the numbers are programmed in and I don't know them, so I couldn't call you on the room phone, and you weren't at work so I couldn't look up the number and call you there either. All I could do was plug the phone in and take a shower and go eat while it charged."

"I forward all the calls to my cell when the shop's closed. You could've called and I would've gotten it...but there's no way you would know that."

"Oh." That hadn't even occurred to me. "Well I didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry."

"No, I...I shouldn't have freaked out like that," he mumbled.

"You know…" I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn't say it. I didn't want to make him feel worse. But I didn't want him doing this to himself either. Fuck it. Some things needed to be said, even if they were unpleasant. "It's sweet that you worried. I appreciate it, so much, but...even if I was lying in bed depressed, it isn't the end of the world. I always come out of it eventually."

"Come on," Mat groaned. "I can't leave you like that. I hate thinking about you like that."

"And I hope you know that I have never wanted to hurt myself, or end it."

"Jesus, I wasn't going to say that. I would  _ never  _ say that." He sounded horrified.

I noticed he didn't say that he'd never thought it though. The omission was pretty glaring, but I wasn't going to call him out on it. "I just felt it needed to be said."

"All right then, it's been said," he muttered, sounding deeply unhappy. "Are you leaving the hotel soon?"

"Yeah. I'm all packed up and ready to go. I just need to check out and then I'll be on my way." I'd have to make sure I plugged my phone in when I got to the car. The last thing I wanted was for it to die while I was on the road.

"I don't like the idea of you driving alone all that way."

"I won't be alone. I'll have the smooth sounds of the 70s with me."

"You…" He sounded annoyed then started laughing. "You are so corny. Mr. Right Said Banana Bread."

God that was adorable. "You like it," I cooed.

"I do. I really do." He sighed. "So you won't be home until tomorrow, then." There was a brief pause then, "I don't want you to hurry or anything. Just...trying to figure out when you'll be home."

Home. That sounded so… It choked me up a little.

Mat went on, "You're going to split it up, right?"

"Yeah, I'll make Buffalo tonight, no problem." My phone buzzed, and I saw it was Amanda. "Panda's calling."

"All right. Talk to you soon." He hung up. He understood the need to answer a daughter's call.

I switched the call over. "Hey honey," I murmured.

"Hey Dad," she replied. She sounded down. Or maybe she was just sleepy. "So...you're...you're still in the hotel?" Her voice ended in a squeak. My poor girl. She was homesick already.

"Yeah. Just half a mile away," I reminded her. I was still close by, and I'd be there in minutes if she thought she needed me right now. I didn't ask her if she did. I had to let her make that decision on her own. I was right on the verge of tears, all thoughts of Mat forgotten for the moment. This was my  _ child _ , and if she needed me then that was my priority.

"I know, I just…" I heard her sniff.

"We'll do a video call tonight, okay?" God, if she started crying I was going to start. I was hovering right on the edge of it. It was times like this that I wondered if I'd fostered some kind of unhealthy codependency between us over the course of her life, then I'd tell myself I was being an idiot and that we just had a normal, well-attached father-daughter bond. With my fucked up childhood, it was so hard for me to tell at times what was normal or not when it came to that. All the years that I'd spent in therapy had helped a little with that, but I knew that we had both gotten clingier after Alex's death.

"Okay," she whined.

"You've got everything you need," I assured her, "and if you don't I'll send it when I get home." I had to be strong for her. She didn't need her dad bawling right now. I had to channel Alex and his sweet but firm manner. "What's Grace doing right now?"

"Still sleeping. We were up all night talking. Well, I was talking. She's a good listener."

Oh man, the nostalgia. "That's great, honey. Craig was too. Just don't get her in a bunch of trouble like Craig did with me."

Amanda laughed a bit and it was such a relief to hear. "C'mon Pop, you were into it and you know it. You keep pretending to get dragged into this stuff like you do with Robert but we all know the truth."

"Yes, and I fully intend to let Robert drag me into more." And maybe Craig too.

She laughed more at that, and I kept the conversation steered into happy areas while I vacated the room and headed for the elevator. Keep moving. Keep things light. Give her things to look forward to. She'd be okay. We both would be. I was finally starting to believe that.

I got checked out and made it to my car, and when I turned it on the call switched over to Bluetooth. Amanda went quiet, and as I plugged my phone into the car charger I said, "You're going to have so much fun the next four years, sweetie pie. Just make safe choices and always have a wingman. Or wingwoman."

"Yes Father," she drawled.

Okay, maybe I had gone overboard in warning her about all the things that could go wrong in a college setting. Boys, and drinking, and young people out on their own for the first time in their lives with not enough supervision. It wasn't as if guys never got assaulted, but it was a bigger worry for girls. Still, my daughter was smart, and I had to trust that she would be careful.

Amanda didn't dissolve into tears, and neither did I, and she knew I was in the car and leaving, and she didn't ask me to visit one last time. It didn't hurt my feelings. I knew how very much my child loved me, and I knew that she knew that if we saw each other again we most certainly would start bawling and have a hard time letting go.

I had to let go. We both did.

The call lasted until I crossed into Indiana, then Grace was up and Amanda put the call on speaker phone and we talked a bit more then the girls said they were going to shower and go get food and explore around the dorm a bit, and maybe meet up with some of the kids they'd gotten to know yesterday.

What great memories it was bringing up for me. Some not so great ones too, but the fun I'd had in college outweighed the rest. Maybe she would end up lifelong friends with Grace, maybe she wouldn't. I barely remembered the first roommate I'd had before Craig moved in. It seemed the girls were off to a good start though.

The girls hung up and I drove in silence for a while, a lump in my throat. God I missed her already. I made it as far as Gary, Indiana before I impulsively called Craig. I could hear the girls and Ashley in the background, but he was more than happy to talk and got Ashley on the call as well so the three of us could reminisce, and it staved off the doldrums. Calling Craig had definitely been the right thing to do, and I could tell he was touched that I had reached out to him. Everything was good.

Everything was good. Yes, it actually was. Everything would be okay.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for grief-related trauma/PTSD and general all around sadness.

I decided to bypass Buffalo altogether. There wasn't anything there that I needed to see again, and I didn't want the headache of going through the city. Instead I kept going north on I-90 then followed it east and got a cheap room just past the airport where 90 intersected with 78. The sound of the planes wouldn't bother me, and I'd make sure to properly plug in my phone tonight.

Takeout was easy to find, and I settled into the room on the slightly uncomfortable bed. The room was really clean though, and the carb-heavy continental breakfast was free.

I set up my laptop and hooked up to the hotel's wifi then texted Amanda to let her know I was available, then I texted Mat, telling him where I was, and which hotel this time. He called right away and we talked for a bit. I could tell he was anxious for me to get back, but it was more anticipation than worry. I had to admit that I was eager to get home too, and not just to see Mat. I was a homebody by nature, and all the driving this week combined with the emotional stuff had really taken a toll. I was tired. Exhausted. I had a project lined up that I'd need to start right away too, albeit a small one. With a child in college I would definitely need to take whatever jobs came my way.

The final leg of the drive home the next day was marred by traffic slowing to a crawl just before Schenectady. I gripped the wheel tightly and kept my eyes on the road as everyone further ahead tried to merge right to go around the scene. Red and blue lights flashed in front of me. My hopes that it was a simple traffic stop were dashed when the fire trucks at the scene came into view.

_ There's been an accident, Mr. Rivera. I'm so sorry. He didn't survive the crash _ . _ Died on impact. _

I could feel that buzzing pressure start to build between my ears. Mat. I should call Mat.

I turned off the music and called Mat. He instantly answered.

"Hey," he said in pleased surprise. Music was playing in the background. He was still at work. Of course he was still at work.

I said in a choked voice, "Could we uh...could we talk for a bit? If you're available."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he murmured. He said something to Pablo then I heard the music grow distant. "You okay?"

"I just wanted… I just need you to talk to me for a little while." An ambulance was charging up the emergency lane to my left, towards the wreck up ahead.

"Is that a siren?" Mat asked in a sudden panic. "Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!"

"Yes, I'm just...I'm driving by a wreck and I'm more than a little upset right now and I just wanted to hear your voice." My own broke halfway through.

Mat mumbled in sympathy, "Oh babe. Oh Jesus, I'm sorry, that's got to be hard. Just hang with me, okay? And don't look."

"I'm not. Looking."

"Where are you at?"

"Just before the exit to Schenectady."

"Just a few hours away then."

"Yes, but I don't know how long it'll take to get around this. We're barely moving." The ambulance turned its siren off and I blew out a trembling breath.  _ Don't think of Alex. Just don't _ .

"So, you're having dinner with me and Carmensita tonight. Just letting you know."

"Okay," I rasped.

"We're making stir fry."

"I like stir fry. I…" Christ, I could hear another ambulance coming. Just how bad was it? I didn't want to know, I really didn't, but it was so hard to not look, and I knew if I did I would have serious problems.

"Don't. Look."

"I'm not." I was unfortunately in the left hand lane and had a direct view of the emergency vehicles around the crash, but at least I couldn't see the wreck itself. Yet.

He asked, "You still going up to Boston with me this weekend? Gabby said we can stay with her."

"I don't know, I think so, I'll… Let me think about it. I can't really...I can't right now." I couldn't think right now. My hands felt weird, almost numb. A cop in a reflective vest was up ahead, motioning everyone over, and I put on my turn signal and waited for someone to let me in. Thank god the traffic was moving so slowly, not even ten miles an hour. I didn't trust my ability to drive right now.

"Once you're past this, maybe you should get over in the right lane then pull over onto the shoulder?"

"Okay," I whispered.

Mat kept talking, telling me about how he needed to take Carmensita back-to-school shopping soon for clothes and school supplies, and how worried he was that she was going to make the clothing choices difficult. She was starting middle school in a couple weeks and was nervous about fitting in, as most kids that age were. She was already annoyed with him for not letting her get a smartphone, envious of Amanda's. I had to pity Mat for what he was in for during the next six years, because they weren't going to be easy, even as sweet as Carmensita was.

His constant stream of talk in his soothing voice helped, a lot, occupying just enough of my mind to keep me from losing it, and I was able to navigate past the wreck and go down half a mile to pull off to the side of the road. It was all farmland here, and I pulled onto the shoulder as far as I could and put the car in Park, leaving it running so my lights and the Bluetooth connection would stay on. I laid my forearms across the steering wheel then put my head down.

God I was tired. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed and stay there for a few days, but that simply wasn't going to happen. I'd already put off working as long as I could, and even if I had the time to retreat to my bed I doubted Mat could tolerate me doing that.

Mat asked, "Are you parked right now?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have lunch yet?"

"No, I…I just wanted to get home."

"Maybe you could stop in Albany and get something to eat?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"Maybe--"

"Mat," I cut in, with more bite than I intended, and he instantly fell silent. And I instantly felt like a monster. "Mat honey,  _ please _ ," I murmured as gently as I could. "I know you're worried. I really do. But I am...really, really tired right now."  _ I have just enough in me to get home, and I would really like nothing more than to just crawl into a bed somewhere and go to sleep, but I can't.  _ I couldn't tell him that though. I felt so utterly drained that taking a nap in my car right here and now was nearly irresistible, but it was also a very, very bad idea. Unsafe, and maybe even illegal.

"Yeah, okay." He sounded like he was trying to hide that his feelings were hurt.

It made me feel like shit. Not that I needed a lot of encouragement in that regard. "I'll go get something to eat," I promised.

"If you're not hungry, you're not hungry. I get that."

I could still hear the hurt in his voice, and I was at a loss as to what to say to fix things. I just didn't have it in me to keep trying when I was so completely spent. I couldn't emotionally hold his hand when it was all I could do just to function right now. His talking had helped while I was trying to get past the wreck, but now that I was I couldn't handle it.

Maybe it was time to go back to therapy. I was afraid if I didn't that my issues combined with Mat's would make our relationship implode, and it was new and still felt fragile. I should have gone back after Alex died. After I'd had enough time to process the fact that he was gone. It had been arrogant of me to believe I could handle it myself. I had been lucky that I'd been able to manage as long as I had. The process of moving and making new friends and forming a new relationship and Amanda leaving home had all combined into a nasty emotional shitstorm, and I just didn't have it in me to do this on my own. Mat was there, but he had his own issues, and a boyfriend wasn't a therapist. Unless they actually were, which Mat was not.

After what felt like an interminable silence, I heard him sigh heavily before he muttered, "Maybe I was being too uh, intense."

"You're worried. I love that you worry. I mean...not...that you worry, I don't want you to, I meant… care. It's nice that you care." Lame. God that sounded lame.

"I do." Pause. "A lot."

I blew out a breath. "I'm glad of that. I really am. I'm just...a mess. I've always been a mess but… maybe I need to go talk to someone. Again. Get my head on a little straighter. I should've gone back after Alex died. I can't keep having these episodes, and I just…" I should tell him. I didn't want to, but I had to. "All I can think about right now is finding a bed and pulling the covers over my head and staying there, and I know I can't, and I can't when I get home either, no matter how much I want to. It's been a long week and I'm really...just totally exhausted, and I didn't mean to snap at you but I've got nothing left in me right now. I'm really sorry, but..." I huffed. "I'm sorry."

Mat sighed again and said with regret, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have kept at you like that once you were pulled over." He added in a wary tone, "Have you uh...maybe considered… I mean, I know that you do. That you've got uh, trauma, surrounding how Alex died. Every time this has happened it's been connected to that. Maybe...maybe you ought to consider that you've got some uh, PTSD or something. In connection to that."

The suggestion stunned me. I lifted my head from the steering wheel.

When I didn't speak Mat continued, "My dad. He was in Vietnam. He can't stand fireworks or anything like that going off around him. Balloons popping and stuff. Makes the 4th of July and New Years really rough on him. I'm just saying...maybe it's something to consider."

"Maybe," I whispered. It hadn't occurred to me until now, but...maybe that was what that reaction was. It made sense. Perfect sense.

But dear god, I  _ really  _ didn't need another problem to deal with. Another thing that made me problematic. Difficult. Less desirable. High maintenance. Mat didn't need to be given any more reasons to find being with me a chore. Maybe he wouldn't dump me, but I could see things eventually cooling and him eventually pulling away. He would be kind about it, I knew he would, but that would only take away some of the sting.

"Still with me, babe?"

I mumbled, "Yeah. I should...get going. I should let you get back to work."

"Pablo's got things covered. But you should focus on driving." He sounded reluctant to let me go.

"I'll be fine, I--" The siren started up behind me and I gripped the steering wheel so hard that my hands started to ache. After a few seconds, out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the ambulances speed towards Schenectady. Alex had never even made it into an ambulance.

_ He didn't survive the crash _ . _ Died on impact. _

I laid my forehead on the wheel.

After several seconds of silence, Mat softly said, "Hey. How about...how about when you get home I help you unpack the car, then you go lay down for a while? I uh...I bet you could use a good snuggle."

"Yeah." The word came out as a dry rasp, and I cleared my throat. "Yeah." I hated this. I hated it so much. Why couldn't I get my shit together? My life was fine. I knew it was fine. Alex was gone, but shit happened. People died. I wasn't the only person in the world who had lost a spouse, or even lost one unexpectedly. I had a smart, beautiful, well-adjusted, confident, healthy daughter. I owned my own home, free and clear. I was physically healthy. I had a job that paid well enough that I didn't worry about finances too much, and that I usually enjoyed. I had good friends. I had a handsome, caring, talented partner. I was  _ fine _ .

I was fine, and yet right now I felt the opposite of fine. I felt like I was barely holding it together, when I had been good all week.

"Is the traffic clearing out yet?" he asked.

"Don't tell Amanda."

Mat was silent other than the suddenly strained sound of his breathing.

"She doesn't need to know," I mumbled. "Please. If you're thinking about texting her or calling her and telling her I need her or anything like that, just please don't."

He said in a wary tone, "I wasn't going to, but… I don't think I can really put into words just how worried I am about you right now."

I didn't want that. Mat was anxious about plenty of other things without adding me to the mix. "You shouldn't," I said in a faint voice, sitting back in my seat and checking my seatbelt before turning on my left signal and putting the car into Drive. "I'll be fine. I always end up fine."

"Yeah, well...that's debatable. You get along, but that doesn't mean you're okay. Maybe you were okay before, but you aren't okay now."

I really couldn't figure out how Mat already had such a good read on me after knowing each other only four months. 

A kind soul let me into the right lane, and I was back on my way to Albany. I did need to eat. I felt that sort of numb exhaustion that told me it would be a very bad idea for me to not eat, and mixed with everything else it was a guaranteed recipe for a depressive episode. I'd never had what I considered a major one, but I'd always had Amanda there to give me a reason to get out of bed. What reason did I have now, other than not wanting to worry Mat? And needing to work. There was always that. I had a daughter in college that I was still supporting. I couldn't let either of them down, any more than I already had.

I finally mumbled to Mat, "I kind of warned you that I wasn't." I heard him grunt in response. "It isn't too late, you know. To save yourself." My tone tried for joking but it fell flat.

"Yes it is."

I… Wow. Wow, I did not know how to respond to that.

Mat added in a sullen tone, "I don't even want to. I uh...I care about you. For you. You're in a bad way right now, but it won't last. That wreck triggered you and you're having a hard time. I get that. You can't help it any more than I can help sweating and rambling like an idiot when my anxiety acts up."

I didn't know what to say. I gripped the wheel at nine and three and kept my eyes straight ahead.

"Is the freeway picking up?" he asked.

"Yeah." All three lanes were open and traffic was moving at nearly regular speed.

"I'm going to let you go so you can focus on driving, okay?"

"Okay."

"Call me when you're close to home?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you in a few hours, babe. Drive careful."

"Okay."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Mat hung up, and I drove down the road on autopilot. Focus on traffic. Stay in the right lane and go exactly the speed limit on cruise control. I kept the music off. I knew I wasn't doing well. I always had music going in the car, especially on long trips. 

I drove in silence, though my mind kept replaying the conversation with Mat, over and over again. Maybe I hadn't worded things strongly enough, the night we got together. Maybe I should have been unselfish and told him right away, while we were still in the coffee shop, that being with me was a bad idea. All I would do was drag him down, and he had issues of his own to deal with. Well, no, not issues. Issue. The anxiety. Mat had his shit together. He was a great dad, a successful business owner, a talented musician, a great friend, super likable, really good looking, smart as hell. He just got anxious sometimes. I couldn't understand what he saw in me. He could do so much better than this. Than me.

_ Knock it off. You're good looking too. You own your own business too. You're a good friend. A good father. A faithful partner. This is just one of your episodes. It'll pass like it always does. You were okay before. You'll be okay again. _

It was all so hard to believe right now though. I knew that the sensible voice was right. It was almost always right. But logic could only overcome so much, and it wasn't overcoming much of anything right now.

I made it to Albany and pulled through the drive-thru of the first burger place I saw, and I ordered more than I should have then parked in the most isolated part of the parking lot that I could find and proceeded to sit there feeling sorry for myself while I gorged on shitty burgers and a chocolate shake and greasy fries. And of course doing so made me feel like shit about myself, as I had known it would. I hadn't even been all that hungry. I felt a bit ill afterward, and so fucking tired that the thought of getting back on the freeway was unbearable, so I put the seat back to take a cat nap. Just a little nap. It was only about 1:00, so I had time.

The nap helped, at least as far as taking the edge off my exhaustion. I put the seat up and rubbed my eyes and looked at my phone, and felt a twinge of dread when I saw that I had been asleep for over an hour. It was 2:08. I wasn't going to get home until after 5:00. Mat was going to worry.

Well, there wasn't much I could do about that. Mat would worry, because that was what Mat did.

I didn't have any calls or texts, which was a relief, I supposed. I did feel a little better, not so strung out. I was still tired though, so tired. I loved Mat, I really did, but I didn't see how he was going to let me just go to bed when I got home. I wanted to see him and spend time with him, and it would be great if I could go nest in my bed and have him there wrapped around me, just quietly holding me, but I just didn't see him doing that.

I sat there, staring at the steering wheel. Just sat there. I did  _ not  _ want to get back on that freeway. I was sick to death of driving. I should have let Amanda drive more than I had. I'd let her drive on the more rural parts of I-90, for an hour or two here and there, but I had done most of the driving, because I was the dad and that was what dads did, and I had no one to relieve me now. It was going to be a really, really long time before I did anything more than drive to the store and back.

Somehow I found the willpower to text Mat and tell him I was running late due to getting something to eat but everything was fine, even if it really wasn't, and he somehow found the restraint to reply that that was okay and he'd see me when I got home. Okay. Good. That was good.

It was some relief to finally enter Massachusetts, but I still had two and a half hours ahead of me. It was nice to turn south at Auburndale on I-95. Just a little over half an hour and I'd be home, and I wouldn't have to drive again for a while. There was little to eat in the house, but I'd deal with that later. I did not want to get back in this car for anything until I absolutely had to.

As I passed the sign that said 'Welcome To Maple Bay' I texted Mat by voice, telling him I was about 15 minutes away. He responded right away with a smiley face. With heart eyes. That was so sweet. It didn't really stir up any kind of emotional response in me, but it was sweet all the same.

I had barely pulled into my driveway a little after five when he came bounding out of his house, and I stayed in my car staring at the garage door, bracing myself, and hating myself for it. Mat stopped in the grass between our adjoined front yards, and my self-loathing went up another notch. Great. He was wary. Of me. Wonderful. I turned off the car and took my phone out of the holder on the dash then made myself move inch by painful inch, and it was hard, too damn hard, to get out of the car.

I shut the door then made myself look at him, and he was right there at the edge of the driveway, right hand on his left wrist, his thumb flicking across his bracelets. He smiled at me, but it was a hesitant thing, his eyes searching, waiting for some kind of invitation, and I tried to smile, I really did.

Apparently that was enough. Mat came to me and reached out to touch my shoulder, and when I made a sound of sorrow and closed my eyes he clucked his tongue and wrapped his arms around me.

God it felt good. I slid my arms around his shoulders and hugged him, and when he squeezed me hard I felt some of the misery start to abate, just the slightest bit. We held each other just like that for a good half a minute, maybe more, just silently held each other. The more time that went by the better I felt, though I didn't feel good by any means.

Mat finally whispered, "I'm so glad you're home."

I began, "I'm sorry I was--"

Mat gently shushed me. "You did the best you could. No sorries." He squeezed me once more then pulled back to look me in the eyes. His were a bit shiny, and he looked like he was upset but trying to hide it.

My fault. This was my fault.

My eyes dropped away from his face, and when my gaze moved past him I saw Carmensita in the doorway of his house, watching. Shit. I forced a smile onto my face, hoping it didn't look ghastly, and waved at her. She smiled back and returned the wave, but the smile looked a touch off. She went back inside. "What did you tell her?" I mumbled.

"Just that you're really sad about Amanda being gone. She doesn't need to know any more than that right now." He rubbed my shoulders. My hands were still at his waist, and I sighed and looked at him. "Need help unpacking the car?" he asked. 

I didn't answer right then, instead lifting a hand to cup his cheek and rub it with my thumb. He let out a soft breath of relief and smiled at me, his dark brown eyes taking on a happy shine instead of a sad one. He leaned toward me and I met him halfway, giving him a tender kiss, and when he pulled back and smiled more broadly at me I couldn't help but rub my thumb against his dimple then lean down to kiss it.

Mat laughed, that soft masculine chuckle of his that I so adored. "I'm  _ really  _ glad you're home," he said.

"Me too," I whispered. I was.

He smiled as his gaze wandered over my face then back up to my eyes. He seemed a bit shy all of a sudden, and it was so adorable. I wondered if it was because we now had all this time stretched out in front of us, when a week ago we'd had not even a full day together before I'd had to leave for Chicago. Now we had to figure out how to build a relationship with each other. I thought I would do all right, having been in one for so long, but it had been a really long time since Mat had been in one. A  _ really  _ long time.

It was hard to let go of each other, but somehow we did, eventually, and Mat helped me get my stuff out of the trunk and the back of the car and into the warm, stuffy house. It took a couple trips. Mat then went for the front passenger door, and I quickly intercepted him and opened it myself, trying to discreetly sweep the evidence of my burger feeding frenzy into the bag. He just did not need to see that.

When I straightened up and shut the door I saw him standing there gazing at me with sad disapproval. I knew he hated it when I was self-deprecating, and he knew why I didn't want him to see how much junk food I had eaten. He didn't care that I had done it, I knew that; he cared about the reasons why I had, and my feelings about it afterward.

"So...did you want to go lie down and snuggle for a bit?" he asked, ignoring the burger bag.

I shook my head and rubbed the back of my neck. "No." I could feel I was blushing. The idea of lying down with him was appealing, or just lying down and zoning out, but I no longer felt the overwhelming urge to retreat to my bed and block everything and everyone out. I still wanted to, quite a bit, but I could resist the call.

"Are you just saying that, or…"

I sighed and avoided meeting his eyes, clutching the paper sack tightly in my hands. "Yes, and no," I admitted.

He made a sound of sympathy and reached up to gently grab me by the back of my head and rub my hair. "Just tell me what you want to do. Or want me to do. And we'll do it. If you want to just go in and have some time to yourself, it's fine by me. Or I could help you put stuff away. I can go whichever way you want."

God it was hard for me to say what I wanted. I'd always had a hard time asking for anything. I'd been comfortable doing that with Alex, after I'd gone through therapy and learned to recognize my needs and articulate them. It was hard now though. Alex had been my only truly safe person, the one person in this world that I hadn't felt the need to protect from the ugly parts of me. Nothing I had ever done or said had made him turn away, or made it seem like he was going to run.

And to be fair, Mat had never given off any hints of any of that either. I had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I winced, gazing at my house. My sanctuary, albeit a lonely one now with Amanda gone. My Fortress of Solitude. And I treasured my solitude, but I had never wanted this much of it. "I uh… I'd like to, um, go lie down, but it's better if I don't," I mumbled. "I just...really need to not give in to that right now." Mat nodded in acceptance. "If the offer of dinner is still there…" Though I had eaten way too much for lunch, that had been four hours ago. I wasn't all that hungry yet, but I was getting there.

"Yeah. Absolutely."

"I'd like that, then," I said.

Mat smiled at me. "All right. Maybe after, we could watch a movie or something? You could lie on the couch with me and we could just chill out." He paused then added, "I've got a really big, comfy couch."

That was certainly true. I nodded and gave him as much smile as I had in me. It wasn't a lot, but it was something.


	20. Chapter 20

He kissed me then took me into the house. I could tell he wanted to talk, Mat opening his mouth and taking a breath then closing it again several times, and he was fidgety, more in a wanting to be close and not wanting to be intrusive way than a nervous way. I tossed the paper sack onto the counter next to the pile of mail then tugged him close, and he let out a shaky breath and held on tight. "I'm so sorry I treated you like that," I whispered, my voice rough.

"Yeah, you can just stop that right there," he answered, a catch in his voice. He kissed my neck then took in a deep breath then blew it out as he squeezed me. "I am so damn glad you're back and okay."

_I'm not okay_ , I nearly said, but I knew what he meant, and he knew that I wasn't, not really.

No, I _was_ okay. I wasn't great, but I was okay. I didn't feel it, but I knew it, and that was enough. "I'm going to call someone tomorrow," I promised. "I don't know that my old therapist is even still around after all these years, but I'll find someone and go back."

"Just for a tune up. Maybe you're getting by, but I want you to be happy. As happy as you can be."

God, he knew me. He took the words right out of my mouth. It was eerie how well he knew me. I didn't give him any platitudes in that regard, either.

I kissed him then let go, moving the short distance to the living room to slide the glass panel up on the storm door to let some fresh air in, then I went to my pile of souvenirs. "I got you something."

"Aw babe, come on," he said in good-natured scolding. "You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to." I just hoped to god it was in one piece still. I hadn't thought to check, but it hadn't left my trunk, and it was wrapped really well. I dug through the bags and boxes then found it and got it out. It felt like it was okay. I didn't feel anything crunching around, anyway. I clutched the newspaper-wrapped gift to my chest, feeling bashful. This was the first gift I had gotten him. It wasn't much, but I'd thought it was pretty along with being useful, though maybe a bit too obvious a choice. I held it out to him and he stared at me a moment with a sweet expression and parted lips then took it. He began to unwrap it, his ears turning a bit red. God, we were both hopeless. "It isn't much," I stated. "We were at a shop in Amish Country in Ohio and...I thought you might like it. Just a...little thing."

Mat cast a look at me over the tops of his glasses like he knew what I was doing. Deflecting. Buffering myself against disappointment. Classic Mitchell.

He got the last of the newspaper off then his face split into a grin. "Hey, how gorgeous is that!" he said in delight. "Aw babe, I love it!" He admired the mug, turning it around in his hands, then he looked at the bottom. "And it's dated this year, too."

"I hadn't thought to look," I said in surprise. He showed me the bottom and it was stamped with the potter's name and the year. The year Mat and I got together. I had to admit that had me a little choked up. The mug was awfully pretty, and it had a pleasing shape, fat and round but somewhat tall as well. It would hold a good 16 ounces of coffee. It was glazed with homey, rustic colors, exactly the sort of thing you would expect to find in a store full of handmade pottery in Amish country.

Mat made a sound of pleasure and kissed me soundly. "I'm taking it to the shop," he declared. "I'll use it every day."

I laughed softly, a little embarrassed. "I'm glad you like it. I um, got Carmensita something too. Amanda helped me pick it out, but... you know how kids that age are. I hope she likes it."

"You can give it to her tonight at dinner, and I'm sure she'll like it no matter what it is." He kissed my cheek and set the mug on the coffee table, saying, "I hope you got yourself a souvenir too. To remember the trip by. Not that it'll be hard to remember. The pictures you two took were great."

I grimaced and said, "I did, but...um, I might have gone a little overboard. On it. I don't usually spoil myself, but it was...sort of…" It was sort of also for Mat, in a way.

"You saw it and you wanted it. That should be enough."

I nodded and went to the big bundle on the couch. "I'm not usually into this sort of thing. I saw it and loved it, then talked myself out of it, then Amanda saw that I kept going back to look at it and she convinced me to get it. It was...Christ, it was a _lot_ more money than I wanted to spend, but it'll last forever. Sort of an heirloom thing I can hand down someday." I began taking out the quilt I had bought at the Amish quilt store, still feeling twinges of guilt over the purchase. This had been really goddamn expensive, but I knew that every time I looked at it I was going to feel pleasure, along with the memory that Amanda had pushed me into buying it, seeing how much I wanted it.

Mat moved to help me unfold it, and he whistled as we stretched it out between us. "Wow," he whispered.

"Yeah," I murmured in reverent awe. The main part of the quilt was a marbled dark blue and green reminiscent of the ocean, and gracing the center of it was a compass pattern. It had two concentric rings of mottled orange, and the star itself was light green, blues and purples. "All handmade," I explained. "Quilted by hand, too. It took months to make." I smiled as I looked at it. It made me happy just...looking at it. The happiness was having trouble getting through right now, but at least it was somewhat. "It's called the Mariner's Star pattern. I've never been big on boats and sailing, but I've close to the ocean my entire life."

"These colors are…" He blew out a breath and shook his head. "Wow."

"I know. I saw it and fell totally in love. Amanda could tell, too. And it has our favorite colors in it."

Mat smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I bet she really liked this. It's gorgeous."

I went still, staring at Mat. "No, I...I mean _our_ favorite colors. Mine's orange, and...I don't think I ever told you that. But I know yours is purple. I thought, um, well, you'll be staying over sometimes, and...the comforter I have on the bed now is old. I've had it since...before. Alex and I picked it out together. I wanted something new. For a new… Well, something new." I'd considered getting a new bed too, but we'd bought the mattress set less than a year before he'd died.

Mat gazed at me with big eyes. "Mitchell," he whispered, touched.

I shrugged, still a bit embarrassed by all this, and still feeling lingering shame over my earlier behavior and the clinging bits of sadness that were still there, waiting to reassert themselves. I moved to gather up the quilt to take it into the bedroom, and Mat moved in and kissed me. I tried to smile at him, and it worked, sort of. I knew he'd missed me and just wanted to be close. He helped me take my luggage full of dirty clothes to the laundry room then we took the quilt into my room and folded up the old comforter then laid out the new quilt.

"Wow, that is really something," Mat said in admiration. "Looks really nice."

I agreed. "Yeah it does." I went to the closet, opening it up to stow the comforter on the upper shelf, next to The Box. Mat followed, and I stood there staring at The Box for a moment before saying, "Those are the uh, pictures I told you about a while back. The ones we used to have up." He made a sound of understanding. "Do you, um...want to see them?"

"Sure. If you don't mind. We don't have to."

I wanted to take them out, but then I didn't. But how else was I supposed to move on if I kept sheltering myself? I'd been able to look at the photo albums over the phone with Mat. Maybe I could do this too, with him here.

I reached up and took down The Box.

We sat down on the bed with it between us and I couldn't make myself open the top, so Mat unfolded the tucked flaps and looked inside. "I kind of went through all your online photos over last week," he said with a bit of wariness. "I hope that was okay."

"Yeah, of course," I replied in a faint tone.

"You guys had a good life. A really good life."

I nodded and looked down at my hands. I rubbed them together, looking at my left ring finger, trying to remember when I'd finally taken the ring off, and how long it had taken for the indentation there to go away. I wondered if Mat and I would ever get to the point of marrying, or if he even wanted that. He hadn't married Rosa until she got pregnant, though maybe they would've married eventually, who knew. I didn't, and I wasn't going to ask. I wasn't going to bring up marriage in an even offhand way.

"I know that doesn't make it any easier," he added, sorrow in his voice. He took out the photo on top, one of Amanda sleeping on Alex's chest when she was a few months old. He was wearing the jacket she now wore all the time, and he was smiling. He had always been smiling.

Mat smiled at the photo and gushed, "How cute is that." He set it aside then began sorting through the others. "Alex seemed like a happy guy."

"Yeah. Really...positive. Always saw the good in people, and situations." I snorted a laugh. "As opposed to those of us who are always waiting for the knife in the back." I winced at how bitter it sounded.

"All goes back to the parents, man," he said with a slow shake of his head, frowning. "I'm just letting you know that if I ever meet your old man I'm kicking him in the nuts, and I don't give a shit how old he is."

That surprisingly made me laugh a bit. "Well, if he's alive he's pushing 80, so you shouldn't have a hard time catching him." Mat kept frowning, looking at the box, then he glanced at me and nibbled at his bottom lip. I felt my heart sink as I realized Mat had looked up my family online. I nearly asked. What he'd found. I almost did. Asked if my parents were still alive. Asked what my brothers were doing. If they had all married. If any of them had grandchildren of their own by now.

No. No goddamn way I was going to ask.

I didn't blame Mat for his curiosity. After all, it wasn't as if I'd forbidden him from… anything, really. I'd told him my old last name. I'd given him the link to my online photos. I had done both those things knowing what he might do with them, and he had done exactly that. He wanted to know more about my past. He wanted to know me, and the things that had made me who I was. He had done it because he cared. If he wanted to do those things I wasn't about to give him grief for it.

I let it go, no matter how hard it was.

We dug through the photos for a few minutes more, then we came across the one wedding photo Alex and I had always kept up, in a fancy silver-plated frame with the date engraved on it. I was wearing a nice gray suit with a flowered tie and a white shirt. Alex was wearing a darker gray suit with a flowered shirt that matched my tie, and a hot pink bow tie. Amanda was held between us, as she was in most of the photos, wearing a pretty, flouncy hot pink dress that matched our outfits, with a bow in her hair, full of ringlets.

Mat smiled, his eyes a bit glossy. "Look at those handsome guys," he murmured. "And Amanda, so damn cute." He nibbled at his lip a bit then asked me, "Hey...could you uh...maybe help me set up something like your online albums? I've got some old photos I want to save for Carmensita, and I bet our families would like to see them too."

"Yes, definitely."

"Some of them are uh...from when Rosa was sick, but I still want them saved. It was a part of our life, you know?"

I nodded, feeling self-absorbed and pathetic. I'd been blessed with 22 years with Alex. We had been happy together. We'd never had financial problems, or health issues, beyond my mental health. Amanda had always been healthy and happy, and had done well in school. If I'd had to watch Alex waste away it would have destroyed me. The shock of him dying so suddenly had clearly done some damage, though, more than I could have guessed. I'd been lucky that I'd managed to go so long without it coming up the way it had lately.

I knew Mat had always struggled a bit with anxiety, but I wondered if Rosa's death had worsened it. He was certainly a stronger person than I was. I couldn't have done what he had done back then. He'd had supportive family though, on both sides, and that had been a big help. How I wished I'd known how to let people help me when they'd offered.

I pulled out the photo of Amanda with Emma R., or maybe it was Emma P., Christ, I didn't know, there were about 5,000 Emmas in her graduating class alone. It was the photo from their Kindergarten Halloween party. I hoped the girls were staying in touch.

That reminded me.

"Maybe when we're in Boston next weekend we can get you a new laptop," I suggested. I felt okay enough, and by the end of the week I'd probably be fine. I could go. I didn't want to spend a whole weekend away from Mat after we'd been apart for a week. And I wouldn't mind seeing Gabriela again. She'd seemed very charming. It was kind of her to give us a place to stay.

Mat looked surprised at first, as if he hadn't expected me to agree to go, then he beamed at me. He let out a soft laugh and leaned over the box to kiss me. "Yeah, let's do that."

"Do your parents have a computer?"

"Oh, yeah, Mom's pretty savvy for her age. Dad not so much."

"If they have a webcam, you guys could do video calls. They could see you and Carmensita, and vice versa, whenever you want." Mat nodded eagerly, seeming excited by the prospect. I added, "You know...I don't really know much about this, to be honest, but there's all kinds of music software. For mixing songs. I think there are collaboration websites too. If you got a powerful enough laptop, you could use it for your music. If you want."

Mat drew in a breath between his teeth and I saw his leg start to jiggle.

"Pablo might know more about it," I continued. "Just...a thought."

Mat nodded and licked his lips, and I left it alone. I couldn't imagine why he was anxious about the thought of it, unless he was intrigued by the idea but nervous about trying it. There would definitely be a learning curve. For god's sake, the poor man was still using Windows XP.

We looked through the photos a bit longer, then we boxed them back up and I put them up in the closet, Mat hovering next to me.

He said in a careful tone, "You know...if you wanted...you could put up pictures of you and Alex. I don't mind. Not that uh...I think that's why you aren't doing it. I'm just saying if you wanted to put them up, if you're ready for that, I don't want you thinking it would bother me, because it wouldn't. I mean, I took Rosa's picture out of my bedroom. Before you came over that night. Leaving it would've been...kind of not right, but...I kept the rest of them up. Do you get what I'm saying?"

I nodded and took his face in my hands. "Of course I do," I murmured. I hadn't realized he had done that. Taken Rosa's picture out of his bedroom, in the event that things worked out and we got together. It was so damn sweet that he had hoped for that, at the same time that I'd been wallowing around in self-inflicted misery. I leaned up to kiss his forehead then stroked his cheekbones with my thumbs as I said, "I'll put a few up someday, but no, I'm not ready, and yes, I know you'd be fine with it."

Mat smiled at me, one of his perfect dimpled smiles. "Need help with anything else?" he asked.

"No, I'm just going to start some laundry then go to your house and enjoy the fact that I'm not driving."

Mat's smile faded. "You sure you don't want to lie down? Because if you uh, wanted to lie down for a while, I'll lay with you. You look tired."

I took my hands down, shaking my head, and Mat caught my hands and put them back where they were, smashing them against his cheeks and holding them there. I frowned and sighed, looking at his mouth so that I didn't have to look into those earnest brown eyes. "I took a nap in the car," I mumbled, "right after I stuffed my--"

"Hey," he cut in. "Don't go there, all right? I'm the last person to judge what other people need to do to cope, especially when it isn't hurting anyone. I'm glad you ate and got some sleep, I don't care how you did it. You scared the shit out of me." His eyebrows shot up. "Uh, I mean...I know you didn't mean to. I was worried about you, that's all."

I couldn't help it. A snort slipped out. Mat's eyebrows came back down into a near scowl, and I said in a tight voice, "I'm sorry, but...when you were talking...your face was all smooshed and…"

Mat took our hands down and laughed, "Man, you are just… Come here." He grabbed my collar and tugged me in for a kiss, then another, then a third that melted into something wet and lingering. "Missed you so much," he murmured against my mouth.

"I missed you too." I knew he had worried, and I had deflected his attention away from talking about it on purpose. There was no way that Mat didn't know that, but it was good of him to not push the issue.

He grabbed my hips and pushed against me, and...I wished I was into it more at that moment. I wanted to be close to him, and the touching and kissing was nice, it was great, but…

Mat pulled back enough to look at my face, seeming confused, maybe even a little disappointed. Let down. Well that wasn't my thing. I never wanted to let him down. I knew he wasn't disappointed in me, and I knew he'd really missed me. I _knew_ that. Of course after a week apart he wanted me, and I was flattered, I really was.

Well all right then.

I smiled at Mat and kissed him again, sliding my hand up his shirt. A shiver went through him when I brushed my thumb across his nipple, and I enjoyed the feeling of his skin under my hand, something I wasn't at all used to yet. It was enough to start igniting a bit of a spark in me, and maybe it wouldn't flare up into full-blown arousal, but...maybe it would. There was only one way to find out.

I maneuvered him towards the bed, and he went along eagerly, letting me push him to sit on the end of it.

When I went to my knees in front of him he breathlessly said, "That isn't...you don't have to…"

"I want to," I murmured. It was the god's honest truth. I wanted to make him feel good, and it was something I enjoyed doing, and always had. Being pleasured was great, of course it was, but there had always been something I loved more about pleasuring someone else. Well, Alex. I'd enjoyed that with Alex, and Alex had always been appreciative of my efforts.

It wasn't vanity for me to admit that I was good in bed. Maybe it was because I didn't always feel that strong, driving need that most people did, and it let me take my time and pay attention to what got the other person off. After so many years together Alex and I had tried just about everything at least once, and we had our favorites, and other things we didn't like, and others that were rare, things we both had to be in a certain mood for. It would be nice to learn all those things about Mat. I couldn't assume that he would like all the same things Alex had.

Luckily for me Mat was a talker, something I found really charming and that shouldn't have been a surprise. It was easy enough to find direction in his _yeah just like that_ or _oh babe that is so good_ , and I took my time and didn't rush it, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his hand on the back of my head, there but undemanding.

I wrapped my arms around Mat's waist and laid my head on his stomach as he leaned back on his hands to catch his breath. He smelled so nice. His scent was still so new. Not-Alex. Though… to be fair I couldn't remember what Alex had smelled like. I'd know if I ever smelled it again, though, impossible as that was, and I knew the cologne he had worn. I'd forced myself to throw out the bottle when we were packing up to move. I didn't think Mat wore cologne, but he always smelled good. Clean and natural. Not overwhelming, as Alex's cologne had sometimes been.

Mat's hand came back to pet my hair. It was getting shaggy, needing a haircut. I was looking rather unkempt in general after not shaving for a couple days, on the way back.

"Hey," he murmured affectionately.

"Hm?" I kissed his stomach as I tucked him back into his underwear. He wore boxers, like I did, which was nice. Alex had been a boxer briefs kind of guy.

"I uh...know what you did. Just now."

I thought about making a joke that all the neighbors probably knew what I had just done too, but even I couldn't go there. It would've been too close to mockery. I loved that Mat was vocal in bed. The feedback was great to have. I was good at taking direction, and Mat hadn't hesitated in giving it.

I settled for mumbling into his belly button, "I enjoy it and wanted to be close to you. Isn't that enough?" He had an awfully cute belly button. A little nubbin of an outie. Perfectly shaped, just like the rest of him. I kissed it.

He sighed. "Yeah," he said in acceptance. "Yeah, of course it is."

Well that was a relief. I was glad that he understood and wasn't going to lay any guilt trips on me, or himself. I was kinda-sorta in the mood, but not willing to do anything about it, still feeling tired and a little melancholy. It was the sort of mood where I knew it would require too much effort to get to the finish line, so I left it alone, glad that Mat didn't push.

He added, "But maybe being close would be nicer if we were lying on the bed." When I hesitated, he finished, "Or you could come over to my place and get cozy on the couch while Carmensita, I mean Carmen, and I make dinner."

Carmen. Carmen? I ventured, "Does she not want to be called Carmensita anymore?"

"No," Mat pouted. "She started right after you and Amanda left."

I wasn't sure what to say. I had pretty strong feelings about letting kids be their own persons,  and a name was a pretty personal thing. I had serious issues with anyone calling me Mitch. People usually only did it once.

Poor Mat, though. Amanda and I were super close, and always had been, even before Alex started traveling a lot for work, but Alex had been there too. It had been just Mat and his daughter for most of Carmensita's life. I could tell it was a lot harder for him to let her go, even in small ways.

"I tried to talk her out of it and she got mad at me," he went on in a lowered voice. When I did nothing more than grunt, he muttered, "You can tell me what you think. I won't get upset."

I made a sound of dread then carefully stated, "I think I have a pretty liberal parenting philosophy and don't want to look like I'm taking sides." The last thing I wanted was for parenting to be a bone of contention between us. In relationships with kids involved, differences in parenting beliefs could cause serious problems.

"Come on," he pleaded. "You just went through all this."

"Maybe you should ask Damien. He's a great dad. And a neutral party."

"Please?"

"Mat honey," I sighed as I lifted my head out of his lap. It seemed wrong to discuss his child in that position, right after I'd given him a blowjob. I could really use a drink of water, too. He was looking at me with such a beseeching expression. I was so helpless against that look on his sweet face and that tone to his voice. I blew out a breath. "Okay." I sat back on my heels. "I guess...you have to pick your battles. Even though you and Rosa gave it to her, it's _her_ name. You know she's going to ask all her friends and teachers to call her Carmen. And I know very little Spanish, regardless of who I was married to, something I'm not proud of, but I know -ita is a diminutive. She's your little girl, she'll always be your little girl, but she's starting to assert her independence. This seems a pretty harmless way to do it."

Mat bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled. "That makes sense."

I rubbed his thighs and said, "You're just going to have to remember, over the next few years, that it isn't personal. Most kids go through this sort of thing."

"Few years, huh?"

"Well, maybe more than a few, but my advice still holds." I climbed to my feet, my knees kind of aching, though I tried to hide it. Mat caught my hand and kissed the back of it, gazing up at me with a sweet expression. I smiled and rubbed his cheek. I loved him so much. But god I really needed to get this taste out of my mouth. I gave his hand a tug and he rose to his feet, letting go of me so he could fasten his pants. "Let me open some of the windows, then we can go to your place? I'll bring my laptop. Amanda might call, so the girls can talk."

Mat was agreeable to that, and I opened my bedroom windows then went to Amanda's room. He stood in the doorway as I cracked open her window, making a sound of sympathy when I paused and looked at her things. Her room was too tidy. Like a guest room. Unlived-in. It was so hard to believe she wouldn't come bouncing through the front door at any moment. She was a thousand miles away.

He stayed a silent but supportive presence as I went to the kitchen and got some water from the dispenser. I looked inside the fridge and was glad all over again for Mat's dinner invitation, because I would've been hard-pressed to scrape together any kind of meal from what was currently in my house. Regardless of how often Amanda and I had loved our comfort foods, I usually cooked healthy meals for the two of us. There were no longer two of us. It was going to be really damn hard to stay on the straight and narrow with her gone.

As if he'd read my mind, Mat chuckled and said, "Good thing you're coming over for dinner."

"Yeah," I said with a faint laugh. "I um...hadn't really considered...this. Part." I closed the refrigerator then drank my water, staring at the door. It was covered with magnets that we'd brought with us, off our old fridge, some of them holding photos of Amanda. There was the magnet we'd picked up a few years ago at the big water park in Williamsburg, during our family summer vacation there. There was another that Amanda had made in an art class in middle school. I looked at the magnets and listened to the faint hum of the fridge. Quiet. It was too quiet in here.

"Hey." Mat came up behind me to put his hands on my shoulders.  "You know there's a standing invitation to dinner with me and Carmensi-- Carmen. Always. And before you say it or even think it, you're not imposing on anyone. Ever."

"Okay," I said, hearing the lie in my tone just as easily as Mat probably was. He kissed the back of my head and I just felt… The bed was calling my name. Just crawl under the covers. Shut everything out. Except I couldn't. I was stuck with myself, and thoughts that wouldn't be quiet.

I had been okay before this though, hadn't I? Before seeing that wreck today, I'd been doing all right. I _had_ to call someone tomorrow. I had to. I couldn't drag Mat down with me. I wasn't going to put him through this over and over again, the way I had with Alex.

"What are you thinking?" Mat whispered.

"I'm thinking it isn't fair for you to put up with this." With me. With my issues. Maybe they weren't there all the time, or at least weren't constantly in my face, but when they came up they seemed so all-consuming that they overshadowed everything else. It had been so long though since I'd felt like this, or at least this bad. A good 10 years. God, I hoped my old therapist was still in practice. I wasn't sure what I would do if she wasn't.

He let out a long sigh through his nose then said, "It's my choice." He rubbed my shoulders. "Like I said the night we got together, maybe give me a little credit, okay? I know things are going to be like this sometimes. Or maybe worse. I get that, and it's my choice. I know what I'm getting into. What I'm already into."

There it was again, Mat acknowledging that I had issues and saying he could live with that. Just the way Alex had. Well, no, not quite like Alex had. Alex had been a bit more careful in his phrasing, or circumspect rather, hinting rather than flat out stating things like this. Still, Mat might say that he knew what he was in for, but I doubted it.

He slid his arms around my waist. "I can hear you still thinking, you know," he softly said.

"I just...wouldn't blame you," I muttered.

Mat sighed, "Yeah, you probably wouldn't." He squeezed me and kissed my neck. "But we're never going to find that out." He rubbed my chest and belly then let go. "Want to grab your things then head next door? Maybe we can start looking for a new laptop. There are probably a lot of back to school sales going on right now."

"Sure," I whispered. "Just...let me start the laundry first." I would let him have things the way he wanted. This would pass, the way it always did, and if I stayed here alone I would make questionable choices. There wasn't much in the way of fresh food in the house right now, but I knew there was a half gallon of chocolate peanut butter ice cream in the freezer of the garage fridge that was mostly full and had my name all over it.

I let him gently herd me into the laundry room, where he helped me sort out my laundry then start a load, then he followed me into the living room to grab my laptop bag and Carmensita's gift. Mat plucked his mug from the table and cradled it to his chest with a grin, and I snorted a soft laugh and gave him as much of a smile as I could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I searched endlessly for who made this quilt, but this was the only image of it online and nothing else turned up. It's the Mariner's Star or Mariner's Compass pattern by Judy Neimeyer. I know quilts take months to make, but I was so not prepared for how much handmade Amish quilts cost, my god.


	21. Chapter 21

We left my house opened to air out, the early evening a bit muggy. When we got back to his place, Carmensita was flopped out on the short end of Mat's couch, playing a game on her tablet. It really was a nice couch, an L-shaped sectional, really cushiony.

She looked between me and her dad, and I smiled at her and said, "Hey Carmen."

She looked between us again, though there was a spark of triumph in her eyes when she looked at Mat. "Hey Mitchell," she said in reply. Mat cleared his throat and she visibly stifled a sigh and sat up.

I set my bag on the big square coffee table. "I brought my laptop for when Panda calls. We could do a video chat, if you want." Her expression brightened further. God, she was an adorable kid. "I was thinking I could go to Boston with you guys this weekend and help your dad find a new laptop with a camera, so you can do chats with her on your own. Maybe Grandma and Grandpa Sella too. How's that sound?"

"Awesome!" she said in delight. Her braces glittered. So adorable. She definitely had Mat's smile.

I held out the little bag. "Amanda and I got you something on our trip."

"No way!" She jumped up off the couch with the enviable nimbleness of youth.

As I handed her the bag I said, "We saw it in Amish country and thought you might like it. Though…I'm pretty sure it wasn't made by an actual Amish person." She opened up the bag and I tried not to look as if I was bracing myself for her to not like it. Amanda had been sure she would, but I wasn't about to throw my daughter under the bus. Carmensita would either like it or she wouldn't, would either wear it or not. She was a sweet, polite girl, so I was sure she would be kind in her disappointment if it wasn't to her taste.

Her eyes widened as she pulled it out of the bag. It was a wide, dark brown leather cuff bracelet adorned with beads of stone that fastened with two snaps. "Cool," she cooed. "Amanda picked it out?"

God, was it that obvious? "We both did, but she had the final say. I think the beads are African turquoise."

"I love it! Thank you!" She gave me a quick hug.

Well that was a relief. I patted her back. "You're welcome."

Carmensita snapped it around her wrist then held it up to admire it. "Yeah," she said, grinning.

"See, you're already set for when you and Panda start your all-woman punk band."

She laughed as she flopped back down on the couch. "Totally."

I gave her a polite smile then stood there for a moment, at a loss as to what to do with myself. I felt like an interloper. Like I wasn't supposed to be there. It wasn't my house. I'd been here multiple times, slept here once, but...this wasn't my home. But my home didn't feel like home either with my daughter gone. Carmensita was Mat's daughter, not mine.

Mat touched my arm and said, "I could use a little help with dinner, if that's okay."

"Yeah," I murmured. "Sure."

I followed him over to the kitchen. I knew what he was doing, just as he had known what I was doing a little while ago, in my house. I was glad for it. I wanted some direction. Wanted to be of some use, since I was here. Wanted something to keep my hands busy.

Mat put on some music then set me to chopping vegetables while he started the rice and cut up and cooked the meat. He joked about feeling sleepy and winked at me where Carmensita couldn't see, and honestly she wasn't paying attention anyway, too absorbed in the game she was playing. It was nice to be flirted with, even if my response to it was a little lacking in enthusiasm. I tried, and Mat's eyes sparkled in response. He seemed to know I was trying.

It was really...nice, though, making dinner together. It was the first time we had, and of course it brought up memories of a thousand meals that Alex and I had made together, and I did my best to push them away and focus on Mat. Carmensita came to sit at the kitchen counter with her tablet to show me a cute cat video, and we talked about my plans to get a cat or two someday, which she was very excited about, and she insisted that she get to come along to help me choose, which I readily agreed to. She stayed there and the three of us talked while Mat and I made dinner, the way Amanda, Alex and I used to.

The stir fry was good, really good, and of course Mat made his own sauce, nothing that came out of a packet. After dinner Carmensita wandered off to her room and Mat got out his guitar and played something soft while I hooked up to his wifi and we looked at laptops together. We settled on one that wasn't too expensive but that had a decent amount of oomph to it. I didn't mention the music software again, but it was in the back of my mind. Amanda called around 6:30 and we did a video chat for a bit then Mat let Carmensita take the laptop to her room to chat with Amanda one-on-one, something that thrilled her to no end. She disappeared into it with a firm closing of the door.

"All right, then," Mat said out of the blue, sliding close to me with the guitar. I blinked at him in surprise as he cleared his throat and jiggled his leg a bit. He gave me a quick, shy smile then began to play a melody that sounded only a little familiar. "You know...that morning after...when I woke up to find you in my bed..."

Ohhh...god. I felt my face instantly start to get hot.

"I just laid there and watched you sleep for a bit. And I thought to myself, 'I could really get used to waking up like this.'"

I folded my arms and put a hand over my mouth. Mat's ears were a bit red, his cheeks darkening, but he kept playing and smiling at me, adorably bashful but pushing through it.

"'With this good-looking guy next to me,'" he added.

I smothered a giggle behind my hand and he grinned. Dimples you could lose a finger in.

Mat looked down at his guitar and kept smiling as he played, the melody turning into something more concrete, and when he started to sing I realized he was playing the song he had written a month ago. For me. I hugged my middle as I watched him. My eyes were getting watery, but how could they not when he was singing to me like this, glancing at me every so often from beneath long eyelashes?

I just...couldn't figure out why the hell would anyone write a song about me. Especially someone like him. He was so handsome, so gifted. So kind. So...completely and utterly lovely and perfect. He was so... _everything_ that I thought this surely had to be a mistake on his part. Surely it was nothing more than his sympathy for me combined with loneliness.

And it was wrong of me to even think that, I knew it was. Mat knew what he was doing. It was insulting of me to think anything other than what he had said. It wasn't as if he hadn't been into this relationship every step of the way as much as I was, if not more. And I would be into it more, if I wasn't such a damn mess. If I wasn't so afraid that he would come to his senses and start pulling away.

_There's no reason he should. You're a nice guy. Good looking. Decent in bed. Kind. Good with his daughter. Occasionally funny. You never came on to him and put him on the spot. You were a supportive friend. You gave him your trust when he offered it, and never betrayed his. You gave him space and he took it and grew to care for you. He isn't going anywhere_.

I...kinda-sorta believed it. It was a bit hard not to when the man was sitting there serenading me with a song he had written about me. I wasn't a complete idiot. I'd been in this mental space often enough to know that it wouldn't last and that I was being harder on myself than I needed to be. I didn't _need_ to be at all, it was just...what I did.

Mat finished the song with a quiet flourish, and god knew what he saw on my face, because he clucked his tongue and did that thing that he did that I so loved and grabbed the back of my head to gently pull me in for a kiss. I whispered his name and put one arm around his neck and we held each other. He stroked the back of my head, and I wanted to tell him I loved him.

I didn't tell him.

He pulled back, though we stayed close. "No one's ever looked at me the way you do," he whispered. I chuckled as I looked away, and he tenderly turned my face back. "Hey, no, bring it back," he pleaded. "I love it, how you look at me. Like...like…"

I wasn't good at putting things into words. All I could do was let him see it in my expression, how much he meant to me. I stroked his beard with the backs of my fingers and we just… looked at each other for a while, then I leaned in and kissed his cheek, a long, soft, lingering kiss, the kind that didn't have any demand in it or anything other than letting him know he was cherished. This moment was sweet, and warm, and I wished I could appreciate it more, or give more. He deserved that, and...I didn't have it in me right now, to give him more than this.

Mat didn't seem to mind. When I pulled back he gave me one of his soft, shy smiles, his eyes glistening. I wanted to tell him he was beautiful, and how much I adored him, but the words wouldn't come.

Carmensita's door opened, and I sighed while Mat grumbled and we sat back from each other.

She looked between us, hesitating in the hallway, then I asked her, "Have a good chat with Amanda?"

She brightened and came into the room with the laptop. Mat began to play again, in a sort of absent-minded way, and his daughter set the computer on the coffee table, saying, "Yeah, it was great. She said she'd call you again tomorrow."

I tried to smile and was fairly certain it came out as little more than a facial tic.

Mat said to her, "Mitchell's going with us to Grandma and Grandpa's this Thanksgiving. Amanda might go too, if she isn't busy."

"Great!" Carmensita chirped. She headed into the kitchen and began rummaging around in the fridge.

Mat and I looked at each other, and he let out a little sigh and smiled at me in an apologetic way. No one had ever said dating with a kid in the house was going to be easy.

"Want to watch something?" he asked. "Do some snuggling?"

"Daaaaad," Carmensita groaned. "Groooooss."

Mat's lips pursed as his gaze unfocused, then he muttered under his breath, "We're going to have a talk later."

I softly murmured, "It's all new to her." It wasn't as if I didn't understand where she was coming from. She wasn't used to her dad being affectionate with anyone but family, and it embarrassed her. I totally got it.

"Yeah, but...still not okay." He sighed through his nose and got up from the couch to put the guitar away in his room.

I sat there feeling awkward, and sort of caught in the middle, even if I really wasn't. I wasn't getting involved. I refused to get involved. I had to maintain strict neutrality. I was a human Switzerland in the Sella household. I had already gotten more involved in Mat and Carmensita's father-daughter dynamic than I had ever wanted to by supporting her desire to go by a shortened version of her name, and even then it was only because Mat had begged me to. There was definitely, absolutely, most certainly no way I was dipping even one toe into anything like this, though. Mat was a super-affectionate dad, a fantastic father, but he ran a tighter ship than I ever had. One would think it was because his dad had been in the military, but from what Mat said he had been pretty indulged growing up. Then again, I was fairly lenient in most regards and had been raised in a very strict household, so maybe it was an opposite thing.

Regardless, how Mat parented his daughter was his business, and I wasn't saying a word beyond what I already had, which in hindsight had been more than I should have. I was _not_ going to have parenting come between us. I'd rather nothing did.

Mat returned and got himself a beer when I demurred then started a movie. I was too wiped out for a beer and knew I'd drink less than half of it and conk out.

I scooched in close to Mat and we leaned against each other in the bend of the couch. I started rubbing my eyes the minute Carmensita turned out most of the lights, and began yawning about ten minutes into the movie, something with The Rock saving the world again, or his family, or both, hell if I knew. He was The Rock. I had complete faith that he would pull it off, with plenty of eyebrow quirking and charming grins. The Rock was unstoppable, much like my fatigue.

Mat saw me yawn and rub my eyes again, and he rubbed my leg and whispered, "Hey, you can lay down if you want."

"Yeah, maybe for just a little bit," I replied, while knowing full well I was done for the night. Just done. If I had any brains I'd wander home right now and go to bed, but...this was nice. Really nice. It felt like it used to, when Alex was around. Alive, and at home. Carmensita was on the other side of her dad, eating popcorn. It felt like family. Like maybe it could always be like this, someday.

Mat grabbed one of the small, soft pillows and laid it partly on his lap, and when he patted it with a warm smile that was all the encouragement I needed.

It was perfect.

I laid down and curled up on my side with my head against Mat, one hand shoved under his leg, and he rubbed my shoulder and upper arm for a bit before his hand found its way into my hair to start massaging my scalp, something that had always been guaranteed to put me out.

I was out like a light.

It felt like I had barely set my head on the pillow when I woke up just enough to realize how quiet it was. I cracked an eye open and saw that the tv was dark. I felt a nice weight on me, Mat's arm over me. God, this was cozy. I'd forgotten how good it felt to do this.

I stirred a bit then took Mat's hand and kissed it then held it to my chest.

"Hey," he whispered. "Good nap?"

I mumbled, "Yeah, it was great." I didn't bother trying to sit up. This was too nice to put an end to. "What time is it?"

"Not too late. About 8:45."

I'd been sleeping for well over an hour. "I should let you get to bed."

"Nah. I'm good right here for now."

I kissed his hand again. "Me too." The room got the tiniest bit darker then I heard something small thud onto the couch. Mat's phone, maybe. His other hand began to rub my head. "Where's Carmen?"

"In bed. Probably reading a bit before she goes to sleep." Mat sighed and squeezed my hand. "I'd forgotten how good this feels," he murmured.

"I was thinking the same thing when I woke up." I rolled onto my back so that I could look up at him. There was just enough light coming from the kitchen to see him by. He had his glasses off. Maybe he had been reading on his phone while I slept. Clearly he and Carmensita hadn't finished the movie. I cradled his hand to my chest and just...looked. At him. He petted the hair back from my forehead and I tried to not feel self-conscious about my receding hairline. It was mostly at the temples, and thinning a bit at the crown. Not bad yet, but nothing like the glorious headful of hair that Mat had.

"I could get used to this." There was a wistful note to his voice.

I didn't respond other than to turn over his hand that was on my chest and begin massaging his palm. I could get used to this too. I _wanted_ to get used to it again, but...I still couldn't quite get over my reluctance to think toward the future. Every time I started to my mind balked at it.

"Oh... _hell_ that feels good," he sighed.

"I give pretty good massages, if I don't say so myself."

"I'm going to have to learn how. If you don't mind my guitar calluses."

I kissed the tips of several fingers. "Of course not." I knew my hands were pretty soft. There was no reason they wouldn't be. I liked feeling the roughness of Mat's fingertips on my skin, though.

"A masseuse advertises at the gym. I've thought about going, just to try to uh, relax, but then I'd get all worked up about it and go to make the call then change my mind then change it back again, and...never got around to it."

"I'll give you one," I promised. "Next time we get some time alone together."

Mat chuckled. "Yeah, I can see one thing leading to another." He smirked down at me. "Speaking of the gym, last week--"

"Can we not?" I whined, putting his hand over my face.

He laughed and pulled his hand back to boop my nose. "You slamming face first into that locker door was the cutest goddamn thing I've ever seen." I groaned and Mat laughed more loudly and rubbed my chest. "Man, what a day that was. It was like getting hit by lightning, seeing you looking at me like that. Wow."

I said in a sour tone, "It was an egregious violation of locker room etiquette."

His smile broadened as he purred, "You only did it because it was me." He looked way too pleased with himself.

Well then. I took his hand in mine again and murmured, "I spent all summer wondering, and the reality far surpassed my expectations." Mat froze, his eyes widening a bit, and I held his hand under my chin and added, "I look at you and I still don't understand how I managed to end up with a man as beautiful as you."

"That's just--" Mat cleared his throat, a poignant expression on his face.

"True," I finished for him. "Every word of it." I paused then added uncertainly, "If that's okay. Calling you that, I mean."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, of course."

"Because you are."

He let out a tiny laugh and shook his head as he looked away. "Get out."

I sighed, "Well, all right," and sat up, and he laughed and pulled me back against him.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Banana Bread." Mat wrapped his arms around me. "You're coming to get coffee tomorrow morning, right?"

"I will. In my fantastic travel mug."

We sat holding each other on the couch for a few more minutes, flirting and talking, and I finally had to call it a night just to get Mat to go to bed so he wasn't a wreck in the morning. I felt… good, though. I felt all right. A quiet evening in the Sella household with dinner and company and a nap had gone a long way towards making me feel better. Not 100%, but better.

I gathered up my laptop and Mat fixed me a plastic container of leftover stir fry for lunch tomorrow, then he walked me home and stayed for just a bit, long enough to have a little bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice cream with me on the front step then take me inside. We kissed and petted each other for a bit, with no intentions of it going anywhere, just enjoying being as affectionate as we wanted without a child around to cramp our style. Carmensita had gone to bed without getting a talking-to, but maybe Mat was saving it for morning. Or maybe he'd had a quiet talk with her while I slept. I wasn't going to ask. Not my business.

It was hard, but Mat finally made himself go home, and I watched him walk back to his place, where he stopped in the doorway and blew me a kiss. I pretended to catch it and put it in my pocket, making him laugh and shake his head, before going inside. Going inside my empty house.

I felt a twinge of loss and turned away to sit down heavily on the couch. This was harder somehow than regular dating. I knew Mat was right next door. I hated the idea of sleeping alone in the house with Amanda gone. I hated sleeping alone in general. How were Mat and I ever going to get any private time together, even to just share a bed and wake up to each other, with Carmensita in the house? I knew she would get used to us being together eventually and we wouldn't have to play it so safe, but...this was hard.

I had no idea how long I sat there staring glumly at nothing in particular when I heard a bang on the storm door that made me shriek and jump to my feet with my fists raised.

"Careful with those reflexes, tiger," Mary deadpanned through the screen. "You're going to hurt somebody."

"Jesus fucking Christ," I panted.

Robert was there next to her, looking rakishly handsome, a wicked grin on his face. "Welcome back, Rivera," he said. "Not thinking of hitting the sack this early, are you?"

I shook my head and said, "Well, no, but--"

"'Cause I'm thinking the night is young and the three of us need to go out and raise some hell."

I snorted a laugh. I really didn't want to go out, but… Mary and Robert had actually come to my house to ask me to hang out with them. Maybe they were even doing it knowing I was sad and lonely here without Amanda. How could I say no? "I might have a little heck in me," I answered.

Mary rolled her eyes and muttered, "God, you nerd." I could see a tiny quirk at the corner of her mouth, though.

Robert chuckled, maybe at my joke, maybe at Mary's reaction to it.

I grabbed my keys, made sure I had my phone and wallet, and locked up the house. As we walked across the cul-de-sac I wondered if I should text Mat. Let him know I was going out. Let him know I might be in late in the morning.

I decided against it. I wasn't going to have more than one or two drinks, and with any luck Robert wouldn't get me arrested. I so wasn't in the mood for any Robert-level adventures, but just the fact that he had come and gotten me meant the world to me. I'd left him alone all summer, just being distantly supportive, exchanging the occasional text or DadBook message, letting him know he had a friend, and he had sometimes ignored me, sometimes said nothing more than thanks, and only in the last couple weeks had started being more responsive. That he was reaching back the other way finally meant so much to me, and I wasn't going to pass that up, especially to sit at home feeling sorry for myself.

We didn't traipse through the woods in search of cryptids, or crash any ghost tours, or rough up any mouthy teenage boys. We went to Jim and Kim's, of course, and Robert didn't sneer too much at my rum and Coke, though if he had it would have been hypocritical considering he started out with a glass of chilled white wine. Drinking when one was sad was always a terrible idea, but I wasn't drinking per se. I was having _a_ drink. As in one. One drink.

One drink somehow turned into two, then a third, and before I knew it the three of us were sitting on a bench looking over the bay, holding each other and crying. I couldn't really say what had started it, but I was pretty sure it was me, because of course it was me, drunkenly whining about missing my daughter, and then Robert started getting choked up and talking about Val, and Mary started calling us both names and was all _goddamn it you two idiots don't you fucking start on me_ then she was hiccuping and it was all over.

It was good though. It felt like...purging something. Maybe Mat understood me better than anyone, knew where I was coming from better than anyone, but Robert understood how it felt to get all twisted up inside over loss, and how it felt to hate relying on other people, and hate asking for help. We talked about my shitty parents, and my less culpable but still shitty brothers, and how much I missed Amanda, and Alex, and how much I loved Mat and how I worried he'd get sick of my issues and how I was certain he'd never want to get married, which was frankly ridiculous considering we'd been together all of nine days, but I was feeling maudlin and wanted to pour out every single wretched thing I'd been sitting on. I should've saved it for the therapist, but I was an idiot and had gotten drunk, and so out it came.

Bringing up Alex wasn't the smartest thing to do in front of Robert, and god, oh god, the things he said. He _had_ been driving the night of the wreck, god help him he had been, and that was where he'd gotten the nasty scar on his chest. He hadn't been driving drunk, but he and Marilyn had been fighting about something, arguing, and it had been a distraction, and he wasn't ever going to forgive himself for it, and...and I wasn't going to try to talk him out of that, because I knew I never would have forgiven myself either. I had the consolation of knowing that the last words I'd said to Alex before he started up the car to come home had been _'See you soon, love. Drive careful_.' I didn't know how Robert had managed all this time even as well as he had, which hadn't been well at all, knowing what I now knew. I felt awful for him, and all I could do was throw my arms around him and kiss his cheek and hold him, Mary on the other side doing the same, while all three of us cried.

Mary didn't talk about herself, or Joseph, and I wasn't brave enough to go there, even being drunk.

I wasn't sloppy drunk, but there would be consequences tomorrow. Not the level of consequences that I'd suffered the day of the fair, but I wasn't going to be a happy camper, and I wasn't sure how I was going to hide my sins from Mat. I supposed I didn't need to. I was a big boy, and if every so often I wanted to go out drinking with my friends, then I had every right.

Friends. Yeah, maybe that included Mary now too. She could use another friend, and maybe I was finally at a point in my life where I was figuring out how to be one. Maybe even a good one.


	22. Chapter 22

"Damn you, Robert Smalls," I muttered with only a small amount of resentment. There on DadBook was a picture of me and Robert clinking our glasses together at the bar. Mary had to have taken it and forwarded it to Robert, who had then posted it, apparently right when he got home.

_Good times, good friends._ He had actually captioned it that way.

Damn him, anyway. I was too hungover to do more than add my like to all the others. Even Mat's.

I sighed heavily and put my sunglasses on then trudged out of the house to face the music.

I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but Mat seemed amused and sympathetic, and...that was it. He sat me down on the worn couch and took my travel mug and gave it to Pablo and asked him to make me a Mocha! At The Disco then went into the kitchen and came back with a warmed up piece of cranberry-apple bread with a bit of butter. I was glad; I didn't think the smell of bananas would sit well this morning. I wasn't anywhere near as bad off as I had been the last time Robert had done this to me, but I was feeling decidedly fragile this morning.

Mat sat down next to me with the coffee and bread. "Looks like you had fun last night," he stated. I grunted, still wearing the sunglasses, and he chuckled and leaned in to kiss my cheek. "My poor baby, falling victim once more to Robert's powers of persuasion."

"I make bad choices," I mumbled.

Mat laughed, then he winced and quieted when I grimaced at the sound. "Did Mary make the rounds with you two?"

"Yeah." I forced myself to sit up and pick up the plate. "Thank you," I murmured. "I...am horribly embarrassed to admit this, but I forgot my wallet at home."

Mat's smile evaporated like... I was too impaired for metaphors, but he wasn't happy.

"C'mon. My boyfriend doesn't pay me for coffee and breakfast." He sounded almost hurt.

"I…" Didn't know what to say. I hated feeling the weight of unmet obligation. Scales tipped too far one direction.

Boyfriend. I really didn't… I wasn't sure how I felt about being called boyfriend at my age.

Mat saw my distress and rubbed my leg. "It's okay," he soothed. "Just don't worry about it, all right? And you didn't have to come in if you're feeling shitty."

"Mostly just a headache. It isn't that bad." Relatively.

"Hey, that's good. At least you can go back home. No Ferris wheels or anything."

"Fucking Brian," I muttered, making Mat snicker. I hadn't realized our neighbor had told Mat about that. He and Brian were pretty close, though.

"It was nice though. Robert and Mary taking you out."

I nodded and sipped my coffee. Mat's was better, Pablo's missing a certain something that I couldn't put my finger on, but it was still good coffee. "I've been trying to get him out all summer, and he kept brushing me off, but...maybe it was good for him to spend some time working things out. He seemed...better. We had a few drinks then walked down to the harbor and the three of us sat and talked about...things."

Mat bit his bottom lip for a few seconds then asked in a lowered voice, "Did he talk about Marilyn?"

"Yeah." I nodded once more. "Yeah he did."

"Right," he said in understanding. "Enough said."

"It was mostly me and Robert talking, and Mary listening. It was...good. Really good. To get some things out." I just hoped that some of the things I said didn't go any further than Robert and Mary. Mat nodded and made an odd little sound in the back of his throat, and I wondered if I had misstepped. Implied that I'd talked to Robert about things I hadn't talked to Mat about. And I had, because some of it was about Mat. And some of it was things, feelings, that Robert would understand that I didn't want to inflict on Mat. Dark and ugly things.

I saw Mat's foot wiggle a little, and once again I was at a loss as to what to say. Christ, this stage of the relationship was exhausting. We still had so much ahead of us, so much sorting out to do, so much getting used to each other, so much… work.

Mat's right hand began to creep towards his bracelet, and I headed it off by pulling off my sunglasses and leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for breakfast, love," I murmured.

"Oh hey, it was nothing."

"It's never nothing." I scooted closer to him to lean against his shoulder, our knees touching. "Did you and Carmen want to come over for dinner?" The offer was impulsive, and I had no actual food in the house, and I had to get to work right after this and wouldn't have much time to get to the store. Thank god I had the leftovers Mat had given me or I'd be eating ice cream for lunch.

Mat said with a touch of regret, "Aw, I'd love to, but we've already got dinner going in the crock pot."

God he was adorable. He used a crock pot. "Tomorrow, then?" I offered.

"Yeah, absolutely." He rubbed my leg as I ate more of the bread.

"Where is she, anyway?"

"At the beach with friends. End of summer, clock is ticking… She'll be back around four. Got a lot of work to do today?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty far behind on that project that I've been putting off. The client's been totally understanding and isn't in a rush, but I don't want to keep her waiting."

Mat shook his head. "I don't know how you work like that," he said with a note of admiration in his voice. "Never knowing when the next job will come in, or what it's going to be." He shook his head again. "That would stress me out to no end. I like knowing that I'm going to come here every day and do the same thing I've been doing for years."

I could certainly imagine that. It made me wonder how he had managed touring so much when he was in his twenties, traveling between different cities every week, meeting new people every time he played. Maybe his anxiety had been more manageable then. I'd thought before that Rosa's illness and death and having to manage mostly on his own afterward had worsened it. I couldn't understand how he managed all the details of running the Coffee Spoon, and told him so, which he bashfully waved off.

We sat and talked for a while as my headache receded and stomach settled. I really needed to go home and get to work, and as we got up to say goodbye I heard someone come in, the bells on the front door jingling. It was a slower part of the morning, after ten, and I wouldn't have paid much attention to the person but for the fact that Mat sucked in a breath and instantly tensed up.

The guy looked harmless, mild-mannered, but he had a badge clipped to the pocket of his polo shirt, very official-looking, with the seal of the City of Maple Bay on it. He had a clipboard and a fanny pack. He smiled and came at Mat with his hand extended, in a manner that I knew Mat would find off-putting.

"Mr. Sella! It's that time again!" he proclaimed brightly.

"Y-yeah, h-hey, Vihaan," Mat replied as he shook the man's hand. "Be right with you."

"Of course." The guy walked over to the front counter to talk to Pablo, who looked as confused as I was.

Mat spun around to put his back to them and he looked a bit wild-eyed. "I uh, I've got to go deal with this." I drew in a breath to ask what was going on, and he said, "It's the health inspector, he comes twice a year and it's been awhile so I really should've expected him to show up any week now but I never seem to and it throws me every time and god I really hate these damn things but I have to let him do what he has to do and I get that and I always pass with flying colors but that never seems to help any, and--"

I put my hand on his shoulder. "You'll do fine, honey," I assured him. He sucked in a breath and then swallowed, staring at me with big, glossy eyes. "Everything's fine," I soothed. "Really. I could sit here and read the news on my phone for a bit. I still have some coffee left in my mug."

He relaxed the tiniest bit. "Yeah," he whispered. 'Yeah, okay, that...that would be good." He smiled briefly, just a flash of a smile. "I'll get you more coffee." He took my mug, caressing my fingers as he did so, then went to meet the inspector. He handed Pablo the mug then took the inspector back into the kitchen.

The poor guy. I sat back down on the couch, feeling sorry for him. I was pretty sure that these inspections had to be unannounced, for obvious reasons, but Mat really didn't like surprises, at least not this kind, and he was very protective of his business. He and Rosa had sunk every extra penny they'd had into saving for this place, so it was Rosa's too, not just Mat's business but a sort of memorial to his wife and their shared dream.

God, I was going to make myself cry.

I opened DadBook when I saw notifications, and underneath Robert's picture with me was a comment from Brian.

 

_Whatever_. Brian was in his late 30s, so it wasn't as if he was a youngster himself. Robert and I were the two oldest guys on our street, sure, with Craig just a year younger than me; Hugo and Mat were in their early 40s, and then Damien and Brian and Joseph in their 30s, but none of us were kids.

Everyone else had liked the photo...except Joseph. Christ, the guy was a piece of work. Good neighbor and all that, but it was sad and made me a bit angry to think that what I believed to be a budding friendship might have just been him grooming me for an affair.

Wow. It was the first time I had put it like that, and it hurt a surprising amount. Maybe that wasn't what he had done, but maybe it was.

I closed DadBook and browsed through the local news, local meaning Boston and the outlying areas, which included Maple Bay. I never looked at the obituaries. I knew my parents were old and could go at any time, and Mat's comment yesterday had led me to believe that they were still alive. I just didn't want to know, and frankly didn't care beyond feeling that the world wouldn't be any worse off without them in it. I hadn't put in an obituary for Alex after he'd died. One of our friends had asked me at the time if I would and I'd said no. Maybe they had done it. I hadn't looked. I had vowed that I never would.

Pablo brought over my refilled mug with the top screwed back on. "Hey, dude, got a minute?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." I patted the seat next to me. He lowered himself to the couch. It looked like he'd retouched the green in his hair. It looked nice against his tan skin, and he had it pulled back the way he always did at work. I had to hand it to the kid, he had a sterling work ethic and had never let Mat down.

He grinned at me and said, "Got a business proposition for you."

"You try to sell me oregano like Lucien did and I'm calling your mom."

Pablo laughed. "Nah, nah." He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder, towards the front of the stop. "Your cute little coffee dude."

I stared at him blankly for a moment before venturing, "Uh...Mat?" While he was awfully cute, Mat wasn't little by any means, maybe 5'10", but--

Pablo guffawed hysterically at that. "No, no, oh man, nonono!" He laughed a bit longer while the heat crept up my face. "No, I meant your Coffee Spoon guy. The drawing you did."

"Oh." I cleared my throat and took a sip of coffee. "What about it?"

He leaned towards me, a sparkle in his eyes. "See, lots of people've commented on it. Like only every day. And I'm thinking Mat's shop needs to branch out a little bit. Into _merchandise_. You get me?"

"Ohhhh," I drawled in understanding. That was actually a really great idea. "What did you have in mind?"

"Mugs, tee shirts, those little decals that go on your back windshield? Got all kinds of ideas." He pulled out his phone with a flourish. "I took the liberty of mocking up a few things," he stated, his tone becoming more businesslike. He handed over the phone. "What do you think?"

I slowly swiped through Pablo's mockups, and...wow. Oh wow. "These are fantastic," I murmured, completely honest. "Seriously, Pablo, these are great." I was still pretty proud of that little spoon man, and what Pablo had done with him was...great. The thought of my work getting out there in such a way was pretty appealing, I had to admit. If it brought Mat more business, all the better, though he was pretty busy already.

"Aw man, thanks!" He was grinning from ear to ear, and blushing a tiny bit.

"Have you asked Mat how he feels about it?"

"Not yet. You know how he is. A little..." He shook his hands, mimicking someone freaking out. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he dropped his hands into his lap, looking a bit shamefaced. "High strung, you know?"

"Hm." I knew exactly how Mat was, thank you very much, and some things just didn't need to be said out loud. I handed his phone back to him and said, "I think this is a great idea, but Mat would have to be completely on board with it. We'd also have to draw up a legal agreement between the three of us and have it notarized." That was the _only_ way I would do this. Verbal agreements between friends could quickly go sour, and the last thing I wanted was any misunderstandings.

"Right," Pablo said in a thoughtful tone. He opened a notepad and started typing in it.

"I'm going to need to clean up the drawing a bit too, so it translates better to that kind of media. Aaaand I'm going to need to copyright the drawing before it can be used on anything."

"Only fair," he agreed.

"Let me get the drawing cleaned up and registered. It might be a few months, but once that's out of the way we can sit down and figure out what's a fair split between the three of us, write up an agreement, then get it notarized." I honestly didn't want anything financially out of it, but I knew if I didn't take at least a small part of any proceeds that Mat would be unhappy about it.

"Excellent." Pablo grinned and held out his hand. "Partner."

I shook it and laughed. He was such a charming kid. "Let's wait awhile though to talk to Mat about it."

He nodded with a serious expression. "Got it."

Pablo went back to work, and within minutes Mat came out with the health inspector. He was chewing at his bottom lip and flicking his bracelet, and his eyes searched me out and he let out a visible sigh of relief to see I was still there. I smiled gently at him and gave him a discreet thumbs up and a wink, and he nodded and turned his attention back to the inspector.

As he was saying goodbye to the guy I got up and started heading over, and once the man was out the door and going down the sidewalk Mat took my hand and led me into the kitchen, where he pulled me into a hug.

"Man, I am so glad that's over," he said in a jittery voice.

"Come here." I led him over to the same stool he had set me on months ago, sat him down, then pulled him to my chest. He laid his head on it and put his arms around my waist while I put my arms around his shoulders. "Better?"

"Yeah, this is great," he whispered. He gave me a squeeze. "Really great."

I kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back, and I felt him calming, his breathing slowing. "So how did it go?" I asked.

"Fine. Same as always. One or two minor dings that I corrected right away. Just glad it's over with for another six months or so."

"Good."

I stayed another ten minutes while we held each other and talked a little, then I really did need to leave to get to work.

I glanced at the spoon man on the way out and thought about Pablo's offer on the walk home. He was such a smart kid. Young man, I should say. He was only 19, but he was responsible and kind, a huge credit to his mom. His idea was really intriguing and something that had never crossed my mind. It wasn't as if I had never created little logos for businesses before, but never anything like this. I'd never been one to put bumper stickers or any kind of sticker on my vehicles, but I could make an exception for a Coffee Spoon decal in my back window. I had no problem with helping to advertise my...guy's business.

Guy. Partner. Boyfriend. Mat had called me his boyfriend earlier. Cute, but...something about it just didn't sit right with me. Maybe because I hadn't been called a boyfriend since Alex and I had started living together in our mid-20s, when we'd started calling each other partner, then we'd married and couldn't wait to call each other husband. Boyfriend felt like...like a demotion, and it was irrational and childish of me to have any kind of issue with it. One week. We'd been together a little over one week and it was ridiculous to expect to be called anything but what Mat had called me. We had to ease into this. Take our time. Maybe we had slept together right away, but the rest had to take time.

I turned on some music when I got home, something spa-like and soothing, and though it took a little time to reorient myself to being home and working, I did eventually get into it. I took a few minutes around noon to look up my old therapist online, and I was disappointed to see that she was no longer at the practice and had retired. I called the office anyway, telling the receptionist that I was a… patient. God, I hated that word. Patient from about 10 years ago, and he said that my former therapist had handed off her book to someone else who had her seal of approval. They were booked up for a while, but I made an appointment for mid-September, a few weeks out. It would just have to do, and hopefully I wouldn't have any more crises in the meantime.

At maybe 2:00 I took a break for lunch, and like all good leftovers it tasted even better the next day. It would have been nice to have Mat and Carmensita over tonight, but if they already had their dinner planned it wasn't the end of the world. I'd just have them over the next night. I had to go to the store anyway.

And so I did, around 4:30. The day was a bit of a disorganized mess, the aftermath of my night out with Robert notwithstanding, so tomorrow I would start hitting the gym in the afternoon again. I'd start shifting my schedule bit by bit as well, and once I felt I could somewhat keep up with Craig I'd take him up on his standing offer to go to the gym or a jog together.

I picked up some Chinese food on the way home, so I wouldn't have to cook for myself, ignoring the twinges of loneliness it caused. Mat and Carmensita would be over the next night, and maybe we could play a board game while we ate. I could handle one night alone. Not the end of the world.

The lights were on in the Sella house when I got home, and Mat's storm door was shut but the screens and inside door open. I could smell something delicious coming from there, something savory, and hear the sound of music playing. That was nice.

I sighed and grabbed my takeout and took it inside then unloaded the groceries. I put them away then took my pork fried rice and chow mein back to my room. Might as well get some extra work done. It would keep me busy until Mat was free. Maybe we could hang out in his backyard later. I didn't think I had ever been back there. I'd peeked through a hole in the fence a few times, and it was a pretty basic backyard: a lawn and a few shrubs, a patio with a small table with an umbrella and a few chairs. He probably didn't do much entertaining. I wondered if I should host some sort of Labor Day barbecue or something. Though who knew; maybe Joseph already had that sewn up.

I settled at my desk and went back to work, picking up where I'd left off. I had never worked at night before unless I had an urgent deadline, and that I was working now was just...sad. The Chinese food was tasty at least, though I really wished I had gotten some fried shrimp.

Someone knocked on the storm door.

"Hey babe?" Mat. That was a nice surprise.

I raised my voice and called, "Yeah, I'm in the bedroom."

I heard the door creak open then shut, and his quiet footsteps coming down the hall. When he appeared in the doorway he gave me a brilliant smile, then his face immediately fell when his gaze landed on my dinner.

I sighed, "I know, it isn't the healthiest thing to eat, but since you weren't coming over I didn't feel like cooking for one person, and it was on the way home." Mat just looked so deeply _sad_. Surely it wasn't over my chow mein? At least it had lots of vegetables in it and the place I always got it from didn't use MSG, so it wasn't the worst thing I could've gotten.

"Oh hell," Mat mumbled, sounding tired. "Mitchell...sweetheart, you were supposed to...I thought it was understood. That you could come over for dinner. When I told you I already had dinner going I just...assumed that you knew you were invited."

I stared at him for several seconds then let out a faint, "Oh." Sweetheart. That was really nice. I liked that. He looked at me with such a heartbroken expression though that I whined, "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Because the sight of you eating Chinese takeout alone and still working at 6:00 at night is killing me, that's why."

I sighed, "I'm not sad right now. I'm not...doing this because I'm sad, I'm just behind on this project and it's keeping me busy. I was going to text you later and see if you wanted to have a beer or something."

"Okay, but...promise me this isn't something you're going to start doing all the time with Amanda gone."

"Of course it isn't." I tried not to sound offended. He was worried about me and upset that we'd had a miscommunication, that was all.

"Will you come over as soon as you're done?"

"Yes, I promise."

Mat came over to kiss me and rub my shoulders, which was awfully nice, and he asked about what I was working on, so I spent a few minutes telling him about the project and my work in general. He had to leave, since dinner was ready, and it was spaghetti, which made me angry with myself for not understanding the implicit invitation, because I _loved_ spaghetti, god damn it, and Mat made his sauce from scratch, of course, in the crock pot. He promised to send me home tonight with leftovers for tomorrow. He was a good, good man.

I went over to his house at around 6:45, once I was at a good stopping point. There really was something pathetic about sitting alone in a mostly dark house eating takeout alone while I worked, but I actually felt okay. I felt like I'd accomplished something, anyway.

I took two beers over there, _good_ beer, nothing like the watered-down swill that Craig had foisted upon me, and we went to sit in his backyard, side by side in patio chairs, scooted close together. It was the perfect way to pass a warm summer evening. We talked about going to Boston this weekend, and how excited Gabby and Luis were to have us visit. We firmed up our plans to go to the Cape in September and found a bed and breakfast that was LGBT-friendly and had good reviews. I told him I'd found a therapist but couldn't get in for a while, but Mat understood and was just glad that I had done it. Amanda called at 7:00 and I talked to her a little bit on the phone, since I hadn't brought over my laptop, but the call was brief since she was heading out. I counseled her to be careful, and watch what she was spending, and she promised she would, and without even sounding put upon.

At 8:15 we called it a night, since I was tired from the previous evening out with Robert and Mary and I didn't want to keep Mat up. I'd returned his container, so he filled it back up with spaghetti, the way spaghetti was supposed to be, with the pasta on the bottom and the sauce on top, not all mixed up. He was a definite keeper.

He walked me home again, and I could tell he wanted to be invited back to my room, and… that invitation wasn't extended. Not tonight. I was tired, and maybe I didn't feel sad but I wasn't in the mood for that. I would've liked to lie down together for a while, but it would have frustrated Mat, and I could tell he was already frustrated as it was by my not so subtle refusal to take him to bed. It wasn't that I didn't want him, but the situation was just...awkward, and I wasn't in the mood, and not in the mood to get into the mood, and...maybe I should've explained that, but I didn't know how to put it without it sounding bad, so I let it go. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did.

Mat went back home seeming slightly unhappy.

_Good work, Mitchell. Top notch, as always_.

I went to bed but couldn't sleep, and if I wasn't sad before I certainly was then, and angry with myself for letting Mat down, even though I knew I hadn't, not really. Mat had been disappointed, that was all, but not upset with me.

God, I was so sick of this. Of myself. I wished I'd had the sense to not get involved with Mat. For his sake. We'd both been lonely and had latched on to each other for dear life, but there were times like this when I knew with utter certainty that I was no good for him, no matter what he said.


	23. Chapter 23

I texted him the next morning when I woke up, telling him I was too lazy to go out and that I'd make a pot of coffee at home and see him and Carmensita at dinner. He texted back a simple  _ ok _ , and that was that. It wasn't Mat's way to keep things that short. Maybe I had hurt his feelings last night. It wouldn't surprise me if I had.

He didn't text me the rest of the day, and I left him alone as well. I halfway expected him to come by at some point to check on me, and he didn't, something I had mixed feelings about. I was still in my pajamas and hadn't showered or shaved and had a generally pathetic air about me, but… I missed him, and it was my fault. I ate his amazing spaghetti while sitting on the couch watching the street and hating myself, and unable to do anything about it. I didn't go to the gym that afternoon, either. I was just so damn tired, still out of whack from vacation, a bit, but I knew that wasn't really the cause. I'd lived with myself and my issues long enough to know, and I just… couldn't bring myself to leave the house today. It had taken everything I had to get out of bed and work.

I nearly texted Amanda half a dozen times over the course of the day but resisted doing so, barely. It wasn't like her to not text me during the day, but she hadn't the last two days. She'd said last night how busy she'd been, but it hurt that she wasn't staying in closer contact. It would have hurt less if it hadn't been so sudden. It felt like being cut off.

Mat texted me a heart around 4:00, and I responded in kind, and he said he and Carmensita would be over for dinner at 5:30 if that was all right, and I said yes, of course, and he sent me a kissy face, and I sent him one with heart eyes. It helped. Some.

At 5:00 I finally dragged myself into the shower, then out again, unshaved, got dressed, and started getting out the stuff for dinner, feeling like everything I did was in slow motion. It was my first time cooking for Mat, and I wished it could have been nicer. Fancier. This dish was one of my go-to dinners, chicken stroganoff, easy and fairly quick to make, something I could manage on autopilot, and Mat had said neither he nor Carmensita were picky. I got everything cut up and ready to go and the chicken put into the pan to brown just as I heard their voices coming towards the door.

Mat knocked and I called for him to come in, and I glanced at him from the stove to give him a twitch of a smile then looked past him at Carmensita. She gave me a cute little wave and I waved the tongs at her. "Make yourself at home," I offered. She promptly flopped down on the couch with a book, setting her tablet on the coffee table next to my laptop.

Mat came into the kitchen and softly said, "Hey babe," in greeting.

"Hi," I murmured. I firmly focused my eyes on the pan, feeling awkward, feeling...not good about myself at all.

He squeezed my shoulders then came around and gently tickled under my chin to turn my head towards him. It was hard to meet his eyes, but when I did I saw only sympathy there, and a good dose of confusion. Because of course he had no idea of what I'd spent all day wallowing in.

Mat kissed me then asked, "How was your day?"

"Um...quiet," I mumbled. "And yours?"

"No health inspectors, so good."

I snorted a laugh and nodded then turned back to the chicken.

"What are you making?"

"Chicken stroganoff. Your um...spaghetti was really good. The container's on the counter over there."

"I'll take it back, if it has stroganoff in it."

I chuckled a little, a weak and inadequate thing. "All right." I was making more than enough to keep us both in leftovers for a couple days.

Mat brought one of the stools into the kitchen and sat with me, handing me things when I asked for them, filling a pot with water and setting it to boil while the rest simmered, keeping me company while I cooked. I didn't feel quite so lonely, but still down on myself. It helped having him there, though, even if he kept looking at me like he wanted to crawl inside my head so that he could figure out what the hell was going on.

"Dad, I forgot my headphones," Carmensita piped up.

"Yeah, go ahead," he told her.

I nearly told her that I had a pair she could borrow, but she was already up and out the door before I could get the words out.

"Hey," Mat whispered, taking my hand. 

I frowned as he pulled me in front of him, and he kissed my knuckles, looking up at me with such a sweet, affectionate expression. I felt a stab of anguish, and guilt. He was so kind, so patient. So...undeserving of what I was putting him through, and would continue to off and on for the rest of our lives, if we lasted that long. If we didn't, it would be because of me.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

Mat shook his head. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I'm sorry about last night." I had to get this out before Carmensita came back. If I didn't, dinner was going to be a tense, awkward affair. Tense and awkward on my part, anyway.

Mat looked at me in confusion. "What?" He immediately let out a rush of breath. "Is that what this is about? How we left things last night? Did you spend all day beating yourself up over that?"

"I'm sorry I...couldn't, I just--" My voice caught and I looked at the ceiling above the sink, trying to keep my eyes from tearing up. I pulled my hand out of his.

"Oh no," Mat breathed.

"When I get like this it's just...it's the last thing on my mind and I know it isn't fair to you--"

"Babe, no."

"--and it wasn't fair to Alex either but we'd been together forever, and you and I haven't, and it's still new and--"

"Hey hey, no," he pleaded.

"--and I've never been as...as... _ physical  _ as most guys to begin with, it's just never been as easy for me as I wanted it to be, and that's why I never went on antidepressants because the one time I tried them it only made it worse." Mat let out huffing breath and gazed at me with a heartbroken expression, and didn't try to shush me any further. I wanted to get this said while Carmensita was away. "And I know everything was fine for a long time and things are just bad right now and they won't always be this way, but it's right at the start of our relationship and it isn't fair to you and you shouldn't have to put up with this, and I keep thinking maybe...maybe it would be better for you to just…" God, I couldn't finish, my throat closing up around the words. 

He stared at me for several seconds, then he finally asked, "For me to just what?"

"To just…"

He said in a gentle tone, "Yeah, and you can't even say it, can you? You would just let me walk away and take it, because right now some part of you thinks you deserve it." He sighed and stood and took my hand again in one of his, reaching out with the other to turn the heat on the burner down to low before our dinner was ruined. He cradled my hand to his chest as I avoided his eyes, and he put his other hand on the back of my neck. "Hey, this is going to pass," he soothed. "That wreck on the way home got you shook you up and thinking about Alex, and then you got home and Amanda wasn't here, and she isn't keeping in touch as much as you thought she would, and I don't blame her for that 'cause I know she's out there on her own having fun, but I would be hurt about it too. And you and me, we're still figuring things out. Last night was just a misunderstanding." He squeezed my hand. "Just...hang in there, okay? It'll pass, and even if it takes a while, I'm not going anywhere. I swear I'm not. I don't want to, and I know you don't want me to."

I shook my head, my throat tight. I didn't really want Mat to leave me. I would be devastated if he did.

"I should've come to see you at some point today, but I thought you wanted to be left alone. I wasn't mad at you or hurt or...whatever you thought I was. I wasn't last night either. I was just worried about you. Because you didn't want me last night or the day before, even though we'd been apart a while, but...I spent a lot of today reading. About what you're going through. Trying to understand it better. And I do, a little, and what you just said, just now…" His thumb brushed against the back of my head. "I'm never going to push for that. That isn't what's driving this relationship. Yeah, I want you, so much, all the time, but it isn't like...like it's the only thing on my mind, or even the first thing. I just want to be with you. Around you. Anything more than that is… just a bonus."

Mat's words made me want to cry. Or they would have, if I had the energy for that. I mumbled, "It isn't fair. To you."

"Yeah, well actually I'd have to disagree on that. I get as much out of this as I'm putting into it. It isn't going to be 50/50 all the time. You're there for me just as much as I am for you. You have been all along." The storm door creaked, and Mat kissed me but kept hold of me, glancing past me briefly at his daughter then meeting my eyes again. "I know you're tired," he murmured, "but we're just going to hang in there until this lets up. And it will." I nodded, just a little. Mat kissed me again then let got of me enough to lift the lid on the pan and check the simmering stroganoff. The water for the pasta was just about boiling, too. "This smells so good," he said with pleasure. "Is this one of your specialties?"

"Yes, um… Yes." Mat picked up the spoon to stir the food and I gently took it from him, forcing myself to say, "This is my rodeo, cowboy." I wasn't feeling particularly humorous, but I could fake it a bit.

He laughed and sat back down on the stool. "All right, all right."

Mat stayed right by me the entire evening, and just having him and Carmensita there made the numbness let up a bit. Craig and the twins came by to return my house and mail keys, and I gave Hazel and Briar their gifts. I still needed to take over Daisy's. Craig could tell something wasn't right with me, and he stayed for a good 20 minutes, joking around with me and Mat while the twins gathered around Carmensita's tablet to watch a video. Craig told me we could fit in one more camping trip in mid-September, maybe with the girls, which I agreed to, and Mat agreed to as well once he realized he was also invited. After Craig left Amanda texted and said she wanted to do a video call; when we did I could tell that she was worried about me too, but I put on a brave face and tried to pretend everything was fine. She wasn't fooled but wasn't about to press in front of Mat and Carmensita. Hugo texted and said he missed our Wednesday trivia nights, and asked if I would be there next week, and I said yes. That was nice.

When it came time for Mat and his daughter to go home, Mat sent her ahead to get ready for bed and lingered on the front steps with me. As we leaned against each other he asked, "You going to come get coffee tomorrow?"

I sighed, "I don't know." I had to be honest: I really didn't know if I'd be up to it. 

Mat wasn't happy with that answer. "All right. How about if you don't show up by 9:30, I bring you some?"

_ If you want _ , I nearly said, but caught myself, knowing how that would hurt him. "All right," I agreed. I tried to smile. "Thank you." I hesitated then reached in my pocket and took out the spare key. "Here." He bit at his bottom lip as he looked at it. "Just in case." He nodded and took it, and to my relief didn't say anything more about it, sliding it into his own pocket then enveloping me in a hug. He really did give fantastic hugs.

"I hate leaving you on your own," he whispered.

I didn't reply. There really wasn't much I could say on the subject. I wanted him to stay. Desperately. Barring that, I wanted to go to his house. But he'd hinted that he didn't feel comfortable having me sleep over with Carmensita in the house, which...didn't make much sense, if we were going to stay with his sister-in-law and her husband in the same bed, or at least I was assuming we would be. He'd said we'd sleep in the same room at his parents' house, when we visited, though that was still three months away. Maybe he wanted to ease into sleeping over, but then again he'd told me the morning after we'd gotten together that he didn't want to waste any time, so...what did he want, exactly?

What did  _ I _ want?

Mat had asked me last week if I ever thought about the future,  _ our  _ future. I'd started to, a little, at least in the short term. Meet Rosa's family. Go to the Cape next month. Meet his parents at Thanksgiving. Any time I tried thinking further ahead than that the conductor of my train of thought threw on the brakes. I knew in a general way what I wanted: I wanted back the life I'd had. I wanted back the comfort and security I'd had with Alex. We'd built that over two decades though. We'd grown together, from the time we were barely more than kids. 

Mat and I however were middle-aged men with established lives, and our own homes. How in hell did you integrate those things? Even if by some chance Mat and I did end up moving in together, marrying, I didn't want to give up this house. In a way, this was Alex's house too. He'd wanted us to get something smaller, without stairs, a house we could grow old in. This house had been bought with equity that Alex and I had built together. But how could I ask Mat to give up the house that he and Rosa had lived in together? Ask Carmensita to move out of the house she had grown up in, and worse yet, move right next door? The thought was completely ludicrous.

"Mitchell."

"Hm."

"What are you thinking about?" He paused then added, "Because you just went completely still. Like you were hardly even breathing."

"I...really...would rather not say," I mumbled. Mat grunted, his body going a bit tense. "It wasn't anything all that...bad."

"Please?"

God, why did he have to sound like that? I was so weak against it.

"I uh...was...um...thinking about...the…" I cleared my throat. Christ, this was not what I wanted to talk about. I didn't want to talk at all. I wanted to go snuggle in bed with Mat, with anyone at all really, and instead I was going to go back into my house alone, and listen to the sound of… nothing.

"Yeah?" he prompted.

I did  _ not  _ want to talk about this. I so did not. I could be honest with him though, a little. I whispered, "Mat honey, I...I am  _ not  _ in a good place right now, and...I don't trust my thought processes when I'm like this, so… I'd rather not say. Please."

"Well maybe...maybe if you talked to me about it I could help you work it out."

Oh god, no. I couldn't. I couldn't even hint at what I was thinking without making him feel bad. The last thing I wanted was to make Mat feel bad.

I could feel him tensing up the longer I hesitated in responding. I had to give him something. 

"Is it about...uh...me?" Mat asked, his voice quavering a tiny bit.

Oh no.

"'Cause if that's why you uh, don't want to talk about it, I could...uh, I could see that," he added, his voice pitched higher than usual. "It's not like you have to share your every thought you know, I mean it isn't like--"

" _ Mat _ ." I squeezed him as I said his name, stopping him before it started getting away from him. What a mess the two of us were. Of course his anxiety was making him think the worst of my silence. The thing was, he wasn't wrong. "It isn't...bad. I wasn't thinking anything bad. About you. I could never think anything bad about you."

"But you were thinking about me, and you don't want to talk about it."

"I was thinking about us."

"And it was making you sad, and you don't want to talk about it."

"I'm already sad. It isn't making me any sadder." Not...substantially sadder, anyway.

"But it isn't making you any happier either."

I huffed through my nose, feeling him tense against me, and starting to get sweaty. What a disaster the two of us were. It was hard not to think that our combined mental health issues were a ticking time bomb that were eventually going to doom our relationship. I loved him though, and...even if it meant us both getting upset, I had to try. I didn't remember my relationship with Alex being this much work, but then again...maybe it had been work for Alex.

Ouch.

I carefully pried him off, though I kept hold of his shoulders. He was biting his lips and jiggling his foot, looking at me with eyes that were a touch too wide. I said in a tired voice, "When I'm like this, it isn't…" I made a sound of frustration. "It isn't any kind of failing on your part. You can't... _ fix _ me. There isn't any certain thing you can say or do that will magically make me better."

"I know that. But...but it's like you're shutting me out, and you're thinking about us and whatever you're thinking isn't good--"

"It isn't bad either."

"But it isn't good," he countered. "Whatever you're thinking, you can't just keep it to yourself and stew over it and not give me the chance to at least try to...to reassure you or whatever. I know we've both got our issues but not talking things out isn't going to help."

"We've only been together 11 days."

Mat frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?" He paused then asked, "Are things going too fast?" I shook my head. "Too slow?" 

I took my hands from his shoulders to rub my face. I knew this had been a bad idea. I just knew it. I should've kept my mouth shut. I should've refused to talk about any of this.

Mat sighed heavily. "I'm being pushy again," he said with regret. "And when you're in a bad place." I felt him rub my upper arms. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

My hands still over my face, I mumbled, "There isn't anything I can say that will come out right. No matter what I do or don't do or say or don't say it's going to come out wrong."

"Then just get it out there and we'll deal with it," he said, a pleading tone to his voice. "I can deal with whatever you say, but...but this is hard, not knowing what you're thinking."

"I just…" I rubbed my hands over my head. I absolutely had to get a haircut this week, before we went to Gabby's. God, how was I going to manage at Gabby's? It was hard enough for me to be 'on' during the regular course of things, but now? I didn't know how I was going to deal with meeting family members, when I was feeling like this. "I don't want to upset you," I groaned.

"Yeah, well...I can live with being upset."

I lowered my hands to look at him with an exasperated expression. That hardly helped!

"Come on, Mitchell," he begged. "This is driving me nuts."

Mat's pushing was...was really unwelcome, but I understood where he was coming from. I totally did. But I hated being pushed and prodded, even if maybe I needed it at times. I didn't think this was one of those times. But the more I refused to answer him, the more he was getting wound up wondering what it was I was keeping to myself, beyond what I'd told him earlier. "I just…" My voice squeaked a bit, and I grimaced and looked to the side, anywhere but at the naked anxiety on his face. Anxiety that I had put there. Was I going to have to start watching what I did to keep him from getting anxious? Watching how I held myself, how I  _ breathed,  _ for god's sake?

"You're getting mad," he muttered, a note of sorrow in his voice.

I rubbed my face again, feeling how hot it was, and left my hands over my eyes. It was something I knew I did, pure avoidance, but at this point I was going to do what I had to do to manage. I had to try to tell him what I was thinking, what I was feeling, no matter how hard it was, or what the fallout might be. "I'm not mad at you, I'm not mad at all, I'm just...I'm tired." My voice sounded petulant, and I hated it. I was going to get this out though, and it was going to be horrible. Horrible. Maybe Mat could deal with anything I said, but that didn't mean I was going to be able to deal with his reaction to it.

"I know, but--"

"I'm tired and I'm going to go to bed, alone, in the house that I live in alone, and it isn't your job to keep me company, and it isn't Amanda's job to make up for it either, and I just want back the life I had with Alex and Amanda and I can't ever get that back, no matter what I do. Even if by some chance you and I end up living together someday I don't want to give up my house because it's the house Alex and I were supposed to have together, that I bought with the 20 years of equity we built up together, that we were supposed to grow old in together, and I know he's like a ghost that I can't get rid of and I keep comparing how things were with him with how things might be with us and it isn't fair, and it isn't as if I can even see that far ahead when I can't even figure out how I'm going to manage sleeping alone for one night. And we've only been together for 11 days and I know we can't just skip over all the steps we're supposed to take and you've got a kid in the house for years yet, and I'm a real fucking mess right now and I don't think it's a good idea for me to go to Boston with you this weekend because of it, because I won't be able to pretend that I'm okay and everyone's going to wonder what in the hell my problem is and what the hell you see in me, which frankly I'm at a loss to understand myself."

I was choked up by time I finished, and I was starting to get a headache from trying not to cry. Some part of me was horrified that I had let all that come rushing out, but Mat had wanted my honesty, and so he had gotten it. I heard him swallow, a thick gulping sound, his breathing uneven. 

_ Good work, Mitchell. A+ boyfriend material, that's what you are. Give yourself a big old pat on the back for a job well done _ .

"All right," he said, his voice a bit shaky. He drew in a deep breath then let it rush out. "Okay." I felt his hands on my upper arms again. He squeezed them gently. "Today was a really rough day."

I nodded and made a whiny, undignified sound of agreement in the back of my throat.

"I'm going to bed in a little bit, and I have to get up early, but...if you can deal with that, why don't you grab your phone and your keys and come stay with me tonight."

I croaked, "But Carmen." I hadn't said all that to pressure him into asking me to stay over. I was glad, of course I was, as glad as I could be right now, considering, but this hadn't been my objective. I hadn't even had an objective other than doing what Mat wanted.

"I told her a few days ago that you'd be staying over sometimes, and I might stay over with you sometimes, if she didn't mind sleeping in Amanda's bed and you didn't mind, and I didn't think you would. I probably should've told you. That I talked to her about it." 

I shook my head. Of course I didn't mind. "But you don't sleep well when I'm there."

"There isn't any other way for me to get used to it other than doing it." He carefully pried my hands off my eyes, and he clucked his tongue and shook his head when he saw they were a bit red and shiny. Mat's own eyes were glossy and sad. "I should've known something was wrong last night," he whispered. "I should've said something."

"This isn't your fault."

"But last night made it worse, and then I didn't text you all day…" He made a sound of sorrow. "Go get your things, okay? You've got a toothbrush over there, and you can bring over pajamas, ones you can keep over there." I stared at him, and he gave me a tender smile and turned me around. "Go on. Get your stuff."

Mat pushed me into the house and stayed by me as I silently got my things together, including a change of clothes that I stuffed into a small bag. I locked up my house and went next door with him, feeling relieved on one hand, glad I wouldn't have to sleep alone when I was feeling like shit, and guilty on the other. None of this was Mat's fault. I wanted to believe it was mine, but the rational part of me knew I wasn't to blame either. We both should have been honest with each other last night, and we both should have reached out today, but maybe...maybe it was good that I'd gotten this out, even if I hadn't done it in the right way.

Carmensita was already in her room with the door shut, and I went in the bathroom and got ready for bed while I heard Mat talking quietly to her in there. 

He came back after a few minutes, while I was washing my face, and he said with a note of paternal amusement, "She wants to know if she can sleep in tomorrow, since you're going to be here."

I snorted a tired laugh. I'd always loved that about kids, how their first instinct was to turn any situation to their advantage. Adorable little mercenaries. "I don't mind," I said as I wiped the water off my face. Mat handed me a towel.

"She isn't your responsibility," he added, the smile in his voice gone. "She knows how to get herself up and get her own breakfast. She's supposed to help at the shop tomorrow."

"After we're up and about, I'll walk her over, if there isn't any hurry and there's a coffee in it for me."

He grinned at me. "Yeah. Yeah, of course." He took the towel from me and wiped off a spot of water on my forehead that I'd missed. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all. It'll…" I felt my heart clench a bit. "It'll be nice." Mat smiled sadly and nodded, and I had the sneaking suspicion that maybe this was deliberate on his part. I didn't doubt that Carmensita had asked, not at all, but I was also certain that Mat was on board with this mostly to give me a reason to get up and moving tomorrow. I missed Amanda so much, but this could give me just a taste of what I was missing, and help in building a bond with Mat's daughter.

He went back to tell her and I heard her cheer. So cute.

I got into bed, not really sure what side to take, while Mat brushed his teeth. The small lamp and his phone charging cable were on the left side table, so I assumed that was his preference and took the right side of the bed. It felt weird, since I had always slept on the left with Alex. It felt weird in general, being here, and I still felt pathetic for what felt like forcing his hand this way, but...this was nice. It felt like family, a little, like it used to be, and the bed smelled good, like Mat. The pillows smelled like his hair.

I heard Mat come out of the bathroom and tell his daughter goodnight, and wondered if I should as well, then decided against it. Baby steps. He came into the bedroom and shut the door then stood at the end of the bed. His hair was down, and he watched me for a moment then smiled, seeming shy again. He gazed at me a moment longer then turned away to go to his dresser.

As he started pulling his clothes off he said, "I like seeing you there."

"Good," I murmured. I laid there half hugging the pillow and watched him change into his pajamas. I didn't feel even a twinge of desire, but I could sure as hell appreciate how gorgeous he was. He glanced my way every so often and seemed embarrassed by my attention but happy to be watched.

"What are you looking at?" Mat laughed.

"The most handsome man in Maple Bay." Mat chuckled and shook his head as he pulled on a loose tee shirt. I added, "Possibly in all of Massachusetts, and most likely the entire Eastern Seaboard."

"Get out," he giggled. 

He side-eyed me, as if expecting me to throw back the covers and pretend I was leaving. If I had been feeling better, I might have, but I was low on dad jokes right now.

Mat came over and set his glasses on the table and got into bed, asking, "That side good for you?"

"Yeah." I had been on the other side the one night that we had spent together. Maybe that had contributed to his sleeplessness. He left the light on and slid close, his left arm under his pillow. He stared at me a moment then lifted his hand and stroked my face. It felt really nice. Soothing. I closed my eyes and murmured, "I'm going to call the therapist again tomorrow. See if they can get me in sooner, or...something."

"It wouldn't hurt to try that."

"And...I'll go to Boston with you, just…"

"I'll let Gabby know to keep it quiet. Just her and Luis and Cruze. I think that was all it was going to be anyway, but I'll make sure." He leaned close and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm glad you're going."

I nodded and made some sort of sound that I hoped was taken in a positive light. I didn't want to go, and I didn't want to have to be 'on', but...I didn't  _ not  _ want to go either, and I definitely wanted to be with Mat, in whatever way I could. I opened my eyes to look at him, and he looked back with such a poignant expression. At times like this, I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, he might love me. Maybe.

Mat whispered, "Man, those eyes. So pretty."

That wasn't what I had been expecting. I hadn't really been expecting anything at all, really, nothing in particular, but certainly not that. I had to let out a weak laugh, though I knew better than to brush off the compliment. Alex had always hated when I refused compliments, and I did have nice eyes. I'd been told so often enough, though I'd always thought Alex's were prettier, a beautiful light hazel-brown with a darker ring around the outside. Mat's eyes were gorgeous though, the darkest brown you could get while still being brown. They were deep eyes, soulful eyes, and the way they were looking at me right now made my heart flutter a bit.

"That first time you came to my house," he murmured. "After the record shop."

"Yeah?"

"Why were you crying? After I played?"

Wow. I just had not been expecting any of the things he was saying tonight. "I uh...the song. It was…" I hesitated, not enjoying what was a very bittersweet memory. "The song was beautiful, and so were you." Mat's expression melted. "And I was feeling sorry for myself, and it just… The thought that you wrote songs for her. For Rosa. That you were the kind of person who did that, and...that I wasn't the kind of person anyone wrote songs for."

He roughly petted my head, though not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to anchor me in the moment. "I'm going to write you so damn many songs," he promised, his voice intent. 

I made a sound I couldn't quantify, some gurgling mix of grief and love, a sort of ugly noise, and when Mat tugged I went, sliding down to snuggle into his chest as he put his arm over me and held me tight. I put my arm over him as well and just...breathed him in and closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything but where I was and who I was with, right then and there.

"It's going to be okay," Mat swore. "I know when you're in it, it doesn't seem that way. But it will be."

I nodded and tried to believe him. No, I...I did believe him, in that I knew he was right, even if I still hurt. But..I was actually hurting, and that was an improvement over most of the last 24 dreary hours. I was hurting, but there were little touches of other things in there too, good things. I still felt miserable, but it was that cliched, loose tooth sort of miserable. I could work with that, at least. This was the worst that things had been in a long, long time, but I could believe Mat, that it would pass. I had to help it pass, and that meant calling the therapist's office tomorrow and seeing if there was any way to get in sooner, and it also meant not hiding away at home and wallowing.

_ Don't think. There's only this. Just Mat _ .

I squeezed him and took another deep breath.

Mat kissed the top of my head then patted my back. "Let me get the light."

I loosened my hold enough for him to roll back a bit and reach up to turn it out, then he rolled back and pulled me against him again. We shifted position to get more comfortable, and when I slid my leg between his I could feel that he was aroused, but not all the way, and it wasn't poking me in the stomach all that much. It made me feel a bit guilty, but he wasn't doing anything about it, and I was going to take him at his word that it wasn't a priority. Alex had told me early on that he didn't expect me to hop up and make him a sandwich and help him eat it every time he got hungry, so he sure as hell didn't expect me to do anything about him being horny every time it happened. It had been delivered with his usual disarming frankness about bedroom matters, and I'd eventually taken him at his word. I was older now, and if Mat had said he didn't mind waiting, then I would believe he didn't mind.

God, he was so good to me.

He began petting my head again, and I sighed and gave him another squeeze. "Thank you," I murmured. "For letting me stay over."

"I should've known it wasn't good for you to be alone when you got back," he said with regret.

"It isn't your fault. It isn't your...job. To...manage. Things."  _ Me. Manage me _ .

"Yeah it is," Mat countered. "I'm your partner. We're supposed to take care of each other. And we do." He added, "Uh...if it's okay to call you that."

I admitted, "I like it a lot better than boyfriend."

"Yeah, me too. I called Rosa the same thing, before we got married." He laughed. "Though she really was my partner, before we ever got together. My musical partner." He rubbed my back and his voice gentled, "Hey, you know, you really don't have to sing with me at the next open mic night."

"I'll see how I feel." I liked singing, as long as it was something I wanted to sing. But that night came the first Saturday of every month, and that just didn't seem like enough time.

"Maybe one of these times when we go up to Boston, you can show me some of those karaoke skills you were bragging about."

I laughed into his chest. "Yes. Definitely." I slid my hand up the back of his shirt. His skin was warm and smooth, and that contact made the endorphins flow just that little bit more. As I stroked his back he kissed my head again, and I whispered, "I love you." He deserved to hear me say it. I needed to stop being afraid of saying it to him, even if he wasn't ready to--

"Aw babe," he murmured, tightening his hold on me. "I uh...I love you too, you know? I do."

A tremor went through me as my hand stilled.

Mat went on, "I know it isn't what it will be later, but...I do."

I nodded and buried my face in his chest.  _ Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.  _

I didn't cry, but...god, how much those words meant to me, and being here, and… I just didn't have words for everything I was feeling. I had never been good at that. I could sing sappy love songs until the cows came home, but I wasn't good at saying how I felt. I was good at showing it though, or I had been with Alex. I was still learning with Mat, but now that he'd told me…

Yes, things would be okay.

We didn't talk anymore, just held and petted each other.  _ Mat loves me _ . I couldn't get over the fact that he loved me, and had said it. Someone loved me. I wondered if this was the same feeling of relief and amazement Mat had felt on open mic night, when I had watched him play and sing and he'd seen that look in my eyes and realized what I felt for him. It meant the world to me that I was loved again, but how much more must that have meant to Mat? I couldn't imagine spending that many years alone. Just the last two had been awful for me, beyond the fact that I was grieving.

But now… Maybe I was still a mess, and still couldn't really come to terms with losing Alex, but after tonight I felt a touch of...yeah, that was hope. It just might be hope. That I could build something with Mat, that although it would never be what I had with Alex, it would be just as meaningful in its own way.

Mat jerked in his sleep and it startled me awake. I hadn't realized we had fallen asleep. He mumbled a sleepy  _ sorry babe _ and rolled over, and I rolled the other way. We had both gotten hot and sweaty, and I definitely needed my space when I slept, but how wonderful it had felt to fall asleep that way.

I didn't remember dreaming, or waking at all the rest of the night. It had been early for me to go to bed, but that was good for me. I did really want to start shifting my schedule earlier to align more with Mat's. I heard a soft, musical tinkling sound that gently woke me, but Mat's movement in the bed was what brought me fully awake. I heard the sound shut off and realized that once again I had forgotten to run my white noise app. It hadn't seemed to make any difference, though. I'd slept really well, but maybe it was just out of sheer emotional exhaustion.

I saw a faint light from Mat's phone, and I rolled over and scooted up behind him. I had a bit of the usual morning thing going on, but I didn't let that stop me from spooning him and kissing the back of his neck.

"Hey," he said with pleasure. "Sleep okay?"

"Great," I said in all honesty.

"Yeah, me too." He sounded happily surprised by that. He finished checking his emails or texts or whatever he was doing and set the phone on the side table again then laid his arm over mine and slid our fingers together. This thumb rubbed along mine. "I really liked falling asleep like that."

"Mm-hm." I paused. "Sweaty, though."

Mat laughed. "Yeah, more than a little."

"But still great."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

We held each other silently for a bit before I asked, "What time do you have to get up?"

"In a few. No big hurry. And you can stay in bed as long as you want."

I kissed where his neck joined his shoulder. "No, I'll get up with you. I got plenty of sleep."

Mat let go of me. "Hey, watch your eyes." He reached out and turned on the little lamp next to the bed then rolled onto his back. I sat up on my elbow and he smiled at me and traced his fingertips across my forehead then down to my jaw. He bit his bottom lip and his expression softened. "I could really get used to waking up like this."

I nodded, though I didn't answer.  _ Me too _ went without saying. At least this morning I didn't feel miserable and hopeless. I could believe now that at some point we might actually end up living together. Making it for the long haul. Maybe even getting married. Growing old together. Watching our daughters marry and have families, if that was what they wanted, and if not, just watching them live happy, fulfilling lives of their own choosing. It was nice to think about, now that I could.

I slid close and tucked myself against his side, putting my arm around his waist as I laid my head on his shoulder. "Don't forget to take your leftovers," I reminded.

"No way I'm leaving that behind." Mat rubbed my shoulder. "What do you want for dinner tonight? I've got stuff to make chicken tacos."

"That sounds great." My voice was a little choked up, but Mat either didn't notice or ignored it. I loved this, just talking like...well, we were a couple, obviously, but this was so domestic. Comforting. Comfortable. Like it used to be.

We laid talking quietly for a bit, then we risked getting in the shower together. Mat assured me that Carmensita wouldn't wake up for a while yet, and the door was locked, and...and I was feeling better this morning, not 100% by any stretch of the imagination, but better, and one thing led to another. I hadn't expected it to, but Mat was very obviously excited by being naked together in the shower, and god help me but he was gorgeous. We washed then snuck back to his room and locked the door and fell back into bed, and maybe it took me a bit to get going, but taking care of Mat's needs helped fuel my own, and he returned the favor, sweet and patient, gentle. The way he always was.

It was a perfect morning.

We dressed and brushed our teeth, then Mat fetched his leftover stroganoff from the fridge, enough for him and Carmensita both. He had a glow about him that was adorable, and kept giving me lazy smiles as he got ready to head out. I was feeling mellow and lazy myself, for obvious reasons. He said to let Carmensita sleep as late as she wanted, and I promised to do so. It was an easy promise to make; I wasn't going to rouse his daughter out of bed. We weren't there yet. I walked him to the door, grabbing my keys off the little table so that I could run next door and grab my laptop and tablet.

"Hey, that reminds me," Mat said with a snap of his fingers. He went back to the kitchen, going to a side drawer and rummaging through it. He brought back something and handed it to me.

A key.

"Thought you should have one," he said. "Carmens-- Carmen has her own, but I want you to have one."

I slid it onto my keyring and joked, "This is awfully serious, Mr. Sella. Next thing I know, you'll be asking for rides to the airport and help with moving furniture."

Mat burst into laughter then grabbed me for a kiss. I chuckled quietly, and he said, "Yeah, there you go. I like hearing that."

It was a good morning.

I kissed him goodbye and told him to have a good day, and promised to bring Carmensita by later when I came for coffee. I watched him walk down our street, and he paused on the corner and blew me a kiss and waved, and I did the same, before he continued on his way and disappeared.

This was so nice. I loved every moment of it. I loved him.

I went to my house, and after going inside I stood there and for a few seconds it felt like a stranger's house. It had ever since Amanda left.

_ No. Don't go there. Just don't. Don't fucking ruin a nice morning, Mitchell _ .

I got my laptop bag and packed up what I needed, ate a bowl of cereal, locked up the house, and went back to Mat's.

It felt weird, being there without him. I set up my laptop at his kitchen table, dining room table, whatever it was, and checked emails then got out my tablet and pulled up the Coffee Spoon man.

Damn, I was proud of that little guy.

I set about cleaning up the drawing, altering it just enough to make it easily printable on decals and shirts. Nice. I took my time on it, wanting it to look clean. Clean lines. I finally got it just the way I wanted it, then went online and filled out the application with the copyright office and submitted the drawing. Done. Now all I had to do was wait for the registration to go through and Pablo and I could move forward, with Mat's approval.

I finally heard Carmensita's door open at around 8:15. Considering she usually got up at the crack of dawn with her dad during the week, this must have felt downright luxurious.

She waved sleepily at me as she crossed the hallway to the bathroom, clean clothes bundled into one arm. She barely even gave me a glance.

I admired her aloofness. Cool as a cucumber. I'd worried pretty often over the last week how she would take her dad and I leveling up in Relationship. Maybe I shouldn't have worried.

She was much more sprightly as she came out, bright-eyed, waving at me again as she went to the laundry room. As she came back out she said in greeting, "Hey Mitchell!"

"Hi Carmen," I responded. I saw her going to the kitchen, and I asked her, "Want pancakes?"

She grinned. "Heck, yes! I was just going to have some yogurt and an English muffin, but yeah, sure!"

Gaaaawwwwd. Killing me with cuteness. She totally had Mat's smile.

She then deflated.

"We don't have the stuff though," she said in disappointment. "I think."

"Luckily for you, I do at my place."

She brightened. "Blueberries?"

"And bacon."

"Yay!"

I gathered my things and we headed next door and Carmensita helped me get out everything for breakfast, while we listened to music and talked. She did most of the talking, but she seemed comfortable with me, and it was just so...touching. It wasn't the same as having Amanda there, but it helped. A lot.

We sat down at the counter with our blueberry pancakes and bacon, and as she was buttering her pancakes she asked, "Are you and Dad getting married?"

It was like in movies and tv shows when the needle of a record player skittered and everything came to a screeching halt. Exactly like that.

Oh, Christ. What to say, what to say… What the hell was I supposed to say?

When all else failed, honesty was usually the best policy.

"I um, would like to, someday," I stated, feeling my face warm as I focused on my plate.

"I'm never getting married," she said, making a face.

"Some people don't. It's as valid a choice as anything." I refrained from asking her if Mat had ever mentioned it, in regards to me, but it was as unfair as hell to put a kid in that position.

"Dad said it's just a legal thing anyway. That you don't have to marry someone just 'cause you love them."

I felt my heart clench as my fork froze halfway to my mouth.

Carmensita cut her pancake as she went on, "He said he and Mom only got married because of me." She rolled her eyes. "They were like hippies or something, I don't know. I try to imagine Dad like he said he was and it just isn't happening." When I didn't answer she looked at me, and god knew what she saw, because her face fell. She looked so much like Mat at that moment. "Sorry. Dad said...uh…"

I smiled at her, certain it looked weird, but I smiled anyway and said, "No, it's alright. You don't need to worry about talking to me about anything, I promise."

She immediately perked back up. "Amanda said I could. Talk to you about anything."

God, that was sweet. "Did she."

"We were texting last night. I told her you were sleeping over." Her expression soured. "It took me forever to text anything because of my stupid phone. You have to hit the number buttons to cycle through the letters. It's horrible."

Yeah. That was exactly what I had done. Mat and I had had a sleepover. And to be fair, we had just slept, until this morning.

I could feel my cheeks turning pink. Damn it anyway.

I cleared my throat and said, "Well she's right, you can talk to me about anything, but...your Dad is the boss. If there are things he doesn't want us to talk about, then I can't." I knew Mat and I weren't going to agree on some things when it came to parenting. Alex and I mostly had. Alex had been easy-going, even more so than I was, and we had never argued about how to raise Amanda. We had rarely argued about anything. The idea of arguing with Mat was abhorrent to me. He wasn't an arguer, I could tell that much. He would debate something, as he enjoyed doing with Hugo and Brian, and he was tenacious, but he wasn't an arguer, thank god.

Carmensita scowled. "Well that isn't fair."

"I know it feels unfair, but…"  _ I'm not your dad _ . I had no right to countermand any of Mat's parenting directives. I didn't even want to skirt them.

"Dad needs to chill out," she said with resentment. "I'm not a baby." She set her phone on the counter then flicked it, making it spin. "Like I'm stuck with this stupid phone that all my friends laugh at, and he says I don't need a smartphone, and...maybe I don't  _ need  _ need it, but it's not like I would play games on it all day. I could keep my class schedule on it, and a calendar to remember things. And take pictures with my friends, or just...whatever. I don't need a fancy one."

I sympathized with her. I really did. Frankly it was barbaric of Mat to leave his poor child with nothing better than this ancient bit of barely-functional technology.

"Aunt Gabby told Dad it was cruel to make me use an old flip phone," she added. She looked at me expectantly.

I shoved more bacon into my mouth to avoid having an opinion. And I had one, but not one I could share with her. I was not going to add fuel to a tween's fire. I picked up Carmensita's phone to look at it, and...Christ, it belonged in a museum. Where had Mat found this damn thing? How did it even charge?

"It's horrible," she pouted. Her eyes started to get a bit shiny. "It's an old people phone. You and Dad have nice phones, but I'm stuck with this." She caught herself and quickly added, "Not that you and Dad are old."

"I like to think we aren't. Middle-aged, how about that?" There was more life behind me than ahead of me, I knew that much, but I didn't feel old.

"But do  _ you  _ think I deserve a new phone?"

I winced. "Oh honey," I sighed. "I can't get in the middle of you and your dad. I really can't." It was pretty easy to see what she was thinking. She saw Amanda, and Amanda's freedoms, and was envious, understandably so. She also thought she could use my influence with her dad to get what she wanted. Cute, but it wasn't going to work. "Amanda didn't get a phone at all until she was 13, and when she did it wasn't a smartphone either." Carmensita grumbled. Amanda's first phone however had at least had a slide-out texting keyboard, a vast improvement over the piece of junk Carmensita was stuck with. "The thing about your dad," I said in a careful tone, "is that it's been just you and him for a long time. He has a hard time letting go because he doesn't want you to grow up. I had the same problem with Amanda. It's why… why it was so hard for me, coming back here without her."

Her expression softened with sympathy. "Yeah, but Dad has family. On both sides. He isn't...you know."

"Alone. Yes." My voice was rougher than I would have liked, but Carmensita wanted to talk. Better to get to know each other now, while she still wanted to talk. "Your dad is lucky, that he has so many people to lean on. I...really can't imagine what that's like. But that isn't why he has a hard time letting you grow up as fast as you want, or why it was hard for me with Amanda. It's always hard to see a child grow up, and...being needed less." It had always been important to me to be needed, when I had felt like a burden, an inconvenience, an embarrassment, growing up. Alex hadn't been a needy person, but bringing Amanda into our lives had filled that spot for me, and now she was gone. Maybe that was part of what Mat and I saw in each other: someone who  _ needed _ . Who made each other feel needed.

Carmensita looked thoughtful, skeptical but thoughtful, as if she was taking me at my word but still unhappy about being denied what she wanted.

She helped me clean up, then I got my mug and we locked up my house and went to Mat's so she could get whatever she needed for the day.

When we got to the Coffee Spoon, Mat was sitting behind the counter looking at his phone, clearly anxious, and I sighed as I realized why. He visibly relaxed when we came through the door. It was a little after 10, not much later than I usually wandered in, but it was Carmensita who had him worried, I was certain of it.

"Hey, my two favorite people!" he called with a grin, as he came to greet us. He hugged Carmensita to him first, then me, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. "Sooo...what uh...what've you two been up to?"

She piped up, "Mitchell and I made a big breakfast. Blueberry pancakes and bacon. It was awesome." She pulled away from him and headed back to the kitchen.

I felt Mat's thumb twitch on my back, and I softly said, "I'm sorry if we worried you. It didn't occur to me. I should've texted you."

"She should have," he muttered.

"Did you tell her to?" Mat shook his head. I rubbed his back and said, "She slept in until a little after eight, took a shower, and was going to fix herself breakfast when I suggested the pancakes and bacon."

"I'm not assigning blame. There's nothing wrong." He drew in a breath then slowly let it out and gave me a hesitant smile. "Nothing's wrong. I'm glad you two had a good time."

"Really good," I agreed. "We talked a lot. She's an amazing kid. I'm just glad that she's comfortable with me."

"So what did you two talk about all that time?"

I let out a short laugh. "What  _ didn't  _ we talk about. She had a lot to say." I really didn't want to get into the details, and was relieved when he didn't press for any.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He kissed my cheek as he took the mug from me, then he took my hand and led me back behind the counter. "Thanks for looking after her, babe. I really appreciate it."

"It was nice. It...helped."

He smiled at me, a smile full of sympathy. "Good. Got a lot of work to do today?"

"I didn't get a lot done yesterday, so...yes. Might go to the gym this afternoon." I  _ needed  _ to go to the gym. Had to. It was good for me, in multiple ways.

"That's great," he murmured. He smiled sideways at me. "Might be nice to go together, but… you know, probably not the best idea."

I folded my arms to put one hand over my mouth and snorted a laugh, feeling myself blushing. "Probably not. You're  _ very  _ distracting."

Mat giggled. "Man, you are just…"

We flirted while he made the coffee, and I heard Carmensita chatting in the back with Pablo, and all in all I was feeling all right. It was tempting to think that I was on the upward swing and everything was fine and let things go. I knew better, though. All it would take was something small to set me back. My mental situation was too fragile to ignore.

I said goodbye to Mat and headed home, calling the therapist's office on the way. They were unable to get me in, but the receptionist said we could do a phone session Monday afternoon at 3:30, if that was all right. I had never done that, but I would take what I could get. Maybe a phone session would be easier for me, at least until I got used to this new person.

It ended up being a productive day. I made huge progress on my current project, and managed to get into the gym at my usual time. I was feeling pretty good, and when Mat came home and sent Carmensita over to get me I had her pick out a board game. We had a nice afternoon together, and dinner and a board game after that, and when Mat asked if I was staying again I was more than happy to say yes.

We headed to Boston Friday afternoon, Mat driving. Gabby and Luis were as wonderful as Mat said. It was cute watching Carmensita and Cruze relate to each other, though it made my heart ache for Amanda's lack of cousins. We found Mat a really good laptop, and got it home Sunday night and set up video chat on it and called Amanda. She had texted me more that weekend, and that had helped as well. Everything was good.

Mat loved me, and my life was okay, and...things were good. They were good and would get better yet, once I got my head on a little straighter and our relationship settled. Maybe I would feel like painting again someday, maybe even feel the pure happiness and sometimes joy I had once felt with Alex. Surely I would.

I was sure I would. Someday. Not anytime soon, but...someday.


	24. Chapter 24

"Hey."

My hands tightened on the handle of my suitcase as I watched the young guy jog out to the lot to get our rental car. I thought I just might be more nervous than I had been that open mic night, the night Mat and I got together three and a half months ago. The girls were talking nearby, Carmensita looking at something on Amanda's phone, and probably still seething over not getting a better one of her own for her birthday last month, as she'd hoped for. I was so very, very glad to have my kid with me again, for an entire week, but oh, the price I was going to pay for it.

Mat put his hand over mine and went on in a lowered, soothing voice, "It's going to be fine, babe. They're excited to meet you. In person. Or at least as excited as Dad gets about anything. Mom's going to be all over you."

I nodded, trying to take comfort in his words. Although Mat and his daughter had been chatting online with his parents since not long after getting the laptop, I had only met Mat's parents over video chat for the first time a few weeks ago, at his insistence, briefly, and that had been nerve-wracking enough, but it had been manageable, a whole two minutes before I excused myself to do something that at the time had been Very Important. It had been cowardly of me, considering they were opening their home to me and my daughter. Mat had been disappointed, I could tell, but he had been understanding of how hard it was for me.

This, though...there was no backing out of this. I was in Atlanta, for an entire week. I would be staying in Mat's parents' house. In the same bed as their son, who I kinda-sorta lived with half the time, but not really.

_God help me_.

The car pulled up and we loaded in our bags, none of which had gotten lost. Mat was driving, since he knew the way by heart. I was more than glad to let him drive. That trip I had taken to Chicago and back in August had soured me on driving, as irrational as I knew that feeling to be. And I did have my feelings sorted out, and my reactions to them for the most part. I really did.

My new therapist had been nothing short of amazing. They'd taken a few over-the-phone sessions after hours at first, on their own time, to get familiar with me and my issues, since my old therapist had destroyed all the records of her patients that weren't moving ahead with the new one, so we'd had to start from scratch, but since I had been through so many years of therapy previously they hadn't felt that we needed to dig into that all over again. Instead they practiced cognitive behavioral therapy, and...what a difference it had made. I halfway felt like I had the tools now to handle how I thought and reacted, much of the time, and while it was still a definite work in progress, I did feel that more progress had been made in the last few months than in the years I was with the last therapist. The last one had been good for me, I knew that, but this one was so much more results-oriented. I knew why I had the issues I did, but this therapist was giving me the means to permanently deal with them. Mat had even taken an interest in going on his own, to get a handle on his anxiety, seeing how much it had helped me. I hadn't pushed. He got along all right and whether he went or not was his own choice. I hoped he did, though, for his own comfort. I would support him either way.

Everything with Mat was going great, it really was, even if our living situation was a bit...well, it was odd, more than a little odd, and all our friends thought so as well, and...maybe I sometimes wished it was different. I regularly spent the night at Mat's Sunday-Tuesday-Thursday, since his house was a bit bigger and had a proper place to eat, and Carmensita had school the next day; we had gotten into a routine where she got some extra sleep Monday-Wednesday-Friday mornings, since I stayed and helped her get off to school, mornings we both enjoyed. We slept at my place Friday-Saturday, when Amanda wasn't home, which she rarely was. She flew home once a month for a weekend, since that was all I could afford, and then I slept in my house alone, since there was nowhere for Carmensita to sleep then, and I wasn't going to put her on the couch. I wasn't sure what we were going to do over the holidays, but we would figure it out.

I worked in my house every day, and when the weather had been nice we had spent a lot of time in my backyard, eating on the patio, or having our friends over for barbecue and beers. We went up to Boston once a month, to visit Rosa's family, and for the most part they hadn't put up any fuss over our relationship, and those that had weren't ones Mat was close to. Rosa's mother had been awkward with me at first but fine, and had warmed up further after getting to know her more. Gabby and Luis had been a delight, every time, and Gabby called me a couple times a week to talk. Rosa's older sister and brother and their families were kind as well, but Mat wasn't as close to them. Definitely cordial, but he didn't have as tight a bond with them as he did with Gabby.

I never had gotten around to adopting any cats, mostly because I wasn't sure where to keep them. I spent all day at my house, but several nights a week at Mat's. I still didn't know what to do about the cats. I really, really wanted some cats, and kept putting off going to the shelter, something that I knew confused Mat. Carmensita wanted cats too, but they would have to stay at my house, since I spent more time at my place.

My place. Funny, that. I wasn't even sure where I really lived. My address was on all my mail, but Mat's house felt more like home. I should've found that comforting, and maybe I mostly did, but...this wasn't at all how it was supposed to pan out. I had clothes at Mat's. A toothbrush and deodorant. I got his daughter off to school three mornings a week and had dinner with them every night. But it wasn't my house. It wasn't the house that Amanda and I had put together, together, full of the furniture that Alex and I had bought, together. But my house wasn't home without Amanda there.

I didn't know what to do. I knew why I felt the way I did, and my therapist had agreed with my summation of the situation, that I didn't want to let go of the last bits of Alex I still had: the home with the equity we'd built, the furniture we'd bought together, Amanda's room. And just _where_ would my daughter sleep when she came home, if I moved in completely with Mat? His house had only two bedrooms, though it did have a loft that was rarely used, with a futon couch that guests slept on, but I refused to treat my daughter as a guest when she came home. And then of course for that to be an issue, Mat would actually have to ask me if I wanted to move in, but the subject of living together had never been broached in an even tangential way. I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

_Well you're in quite the pickle then,_ my therapist had said, with their typical kindly challenging attitude. I hadn't found that helpful at all, but I hadn't brought it up again for a while. I'd figure it out, somehow, and after all, Mat would need to offer me a permanent spot in his home for me to be forced to deal with this, wouldn't he?

Maybe I should talk to Gabby about it. Or Craig. Or Damien or Hugo or Brian or Robert or pretty much anyone. But they were all Mat's friends too. Craig had his own stuff going on, now that he and Ashley were… dating? Could you date someone you used to be married to, that you had three children with? They were working things out, and that took up a lot of Craig's time and attention, though we still spent a lot of time together and went to the gym together on those weekday mornings that I wasn't getting Carmen off to school. Hugo was long-distance dating the Eastern Dragon, whose real name was actually Pablo, oddly enough, but we still did our weekly trivia nights, which was funny considering we were still competing against Mat and Brian. I spent a good amount of time with all the guys, except Joseph, and I spent time with Mary, though always in Damien or Robert's company. I'd been able to bring myself to talk on the phone with some of mine and Alex's old friends, when they called to check up on me, and had met some of them for coffee or lunch a couple times. I'd apologized for shutting them out after Alex died. It was a start.

I was pretty happy, and I kept busy, while still getting plenty of the solitude I needed, and then some. Maybe a bit too much. Things were good. Really good. But…

Of course there was a but. I was Mitchell Rivera. There was always a but. I was happy, but I missed my daughter. I was happy, but I kept aching for Alex and what we'd had. I was happy, but Mat hadn't asked me to actually move in. I was happy, but I didn't want to sell my house, even if Mat did ask someday. I was happy, but Carmensita's comment last summer about Mat's opinion of marriage still stuck with me.

I was happy, but there was always this low-level, nagging little something that just wasn't right, not completely.

_You've only been together a few months, idiot. No, not an idiot, of course I'm not an idiot, I have to stop doing that, but you've only been together a few months and these things take time. Eventually it will all work out. You just have to be patient._

And I was, mostly, but I just felt...unsettled. Maybe Mat's house felt most like home, but I knew it wasn't my home, and my actual home didn't feel like it was either, and I remembered when it had, before Amanda left home, and maybe she was with me all this week but things didn't feel the same, because how could they? I was able to keep from fussing over it too much, or where Mat could see, and when he did I was able to brush it off or change the subject, but I wouldn't be able to keep it up forever.

"Just be patient with them," Mat said as he fastened his seatbelt, oblivious to my internal turmoil, or the real reasons for it, anyway.

"I'm much more worried about it going the other direction," I muttered.

"They're going to like you," he soothed, reaching over to squeeze my leg. "I promise."

He put the car into Drive, and I didn't say another word the entire way there. I tried to let the sound of the girls in the back seat comfort me, along with the knowledge that I would have Amanda with me all week, even if that week was being spent with strangers. Amanda would love them, and they would love her, because by all accounts they were kind, sane individuals. Everyone loved my daughter.

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to keep myself calm and failing. Mat swore his parents were nothing like my own. His parents were good people. His father Doug was a quiet, reserved guy, and his mother Beverly was outgoing and charming, a former music teacher. Doug's retirement hobby was restoring old Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars and selling them online; Beverly gave piano and guitar lessons and volunteered at the local elementary school. They went to church every Sunday, which...really didn't mean much to me except to get my guard up just that tiny bit more, but Mat swore it wouldn't be an issue. I had no concrete reason to be so worried about this. None. And yet I couldn't make it stop.

The Sellas lived on a nice tree-lined street of brick houses. Their house had red shutters, and roses in the front yard, along with one of those brick column thingies at the street that held their mailbox and had planters on each side. There was a sensible tan sedan in the carport to the left of the house, exactly the sort of car you'd expect an average couple in their late 60s to drive.

As we pulled into the driveway, I saw that there was a cross decal in the bottom right hand corner of their back window.

"Did you tell them I'm an atheist?" I whispered. I had visions of a brass cross swinging from my mother's rearview mirror.

Mat looked at me in confusion. "Yeah, why?" He followed my gaze to his parents' car. "Oh no," he quickly said, shaking his head. "Babe, it's fine. I mean, I'm agnostic and they know it. They won't push anything on you. They aren't like that. I swear everything is going to be fine. I told them enough that they understand."

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. We should have stayed at a hotel. Or I should have. Amanda and I. Eased into this. I should have spent the last several months getting to know them instead of chickening out then throwing myself into the deep end like this. This was a guaranteed disaster, and I had done it to myself.

The front door opened and I saw a perfectly nice elderly Black couple come out, the woman giving a little cheer as she hurried down the steps. The man was smiling beneath a gray mustache and went down the steps at a more sedate pace, using a cane. His smile wasn't as broad as the woman's, but he was smiling. Carmensita just about threw herself out of the car and went running up the driveway to her grandmother, who swept her into a hug.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart, I promise," Mat murmured, squeezing my leg, then he was getting out.

Abandoning me.

Amanda leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder. "Pop," she whispered, "it'll be all right. They look really nice."

"They do," I agreed, with something bitter and unbecoming in my voice.

She let go of me and got out of the car, and that prompted me to move, just to avoid looking like an asshole. God help me, I was terrified, and my eyes kept going to the cross on the back window of their car. I felt Amanda's arm go through mine and her other hand squeezing my forearm, and she gave me a gentle tug to make me move, but I couldn't get more than a few feet from the car before I stopped again, making her sigh. Mat was hugging his mom as his dad came up beside them, and then he kissed her on the cheek and went to hug his dad. There was clear and very open affection between Mat and his parents. His dad had Mat's smile, I could tell, even beneath the mustache, and his mom had his eyes. Or...he had theirs, rather. I supposed that was really what it was.

It was sad and pathetic that I still wondered at this point in my life what it would have been like to be raised by parents who had actually loved me. My mother probably had, at one point, possibly, but she'd loved money more, or whatever leverage my father had used against her. The memory of her affection was so distant that at times I was certain I had imagined it.

"Pop," Amanda said with worry.

I felt like I was going to pass out. I saw Mat lean closer to his parents and murmur something to them that I couldn't quite hear.

"Pop, you need to breathe," Amanda said. She moved into my line of sight, just enough to get my attention. "Daddy, it's okay."

"This was a mistake," I mumbled, but I made myself breathe normally. How could I have been so...so _stupid_ as to put myself in this situation? Mat had been trying to get me to talk to his parents for months, and I'd stubbornly refused to do so, making excuse after excuse. The reasons for my refusal were glaringly obvious to me, and petty, and Mat hadn't pushed. In hindsight, he hadn't pushed me with regards to much of anything since I'd come home from taking Amanda to school in August.

Why...why _had_ Mat been so careful of me?

I drew in several slow, deep breaths as Mat came towards me. _Go meet him halfway. Don't look at the cross on the car. Don't think about the callous idiots who raised you. Don't embarrass Mat. Amanda's here. You're the dad. Don't make Amanda baby you._

I made my feet move, keeping my eyes on Mat, and I could see the worry on his face. I was blushing, and angry with myself, and feeling an old, old anger bubbling under the surface, one that I hadn't let get to me for a very long time.

Mat took my hand and I felt his thumb rub over it.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Uh-uh," he said with a shake of his head. "Everything's fine. Come on. It'll all work out."

_Sure_ , I nearly said, but I wasn't a jerk.

Mat and Amanda led me over to his parents, and Amanda did as expected and let go of me and went ahead to greet Beverly and Doug. Beverly of course found her delightful, as was the natural order of the universe, and Doug seemed charmed as well, though his eyes kept moving past Amanda to me and Mat. Mostly me.

Then Doug was coming towards me and my hand involuntarily tightened on Mat's.

"You must be Mitchell," Doug said, with a courteous nod. He switched hands on his cane and held his right hand out.

I wiped my sweaty hand on my pants then reached out and took it, making sure to give a measured squeeze, but not enough to look like I was trying to assert dominance. "Yes sir," I murmured. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"None of that, now," he said with only a hint of stiffness in his voice as he let go of my hand. "It'll be Doug and Bev. We don't stand on formalities here."

I nodded and wiped my hand on my pants again. Goddamn sweaty paws! I held my hand out to Beverly--Bev--but she playfully batted it away and came in for a hug. Oh god.

"It's so good to finally really meet you, honey," Bev said warmly, patting my back then letting go. "Mat's been talking you up for the last six months."

I mumbled, "Oh, um…" I looked at Mat, who was watching me with his parents with shining eyes. "I hardly think the reality will live up to that." I heard Mat grumble, and all I wanted was to crawl under a rock somewhere. I hated having all the attention on me. I _hated_ it. But I was a grown goddamn man and I didn't want to embarrass Mat or Amanda, even if I knew I wasn't doing so. They understood, and the quick glance that passed between Doug and Bev told me that maybe they did too, which...I wasn't sure how I felt about. What exactly had Mat told them about me all this time? I hadn't asked. I'd tried not to even think about it, and now, at this very moment, I was paying the price that I had coming to me.

"Nonsense," Bev said with a wave of her hand.

Doug nodded with his head towards the house and suggested, "Why don't you girls come on in the house while your dads unload the car. Bev just made brownies. They're probably still warm."

The girls didn't need to be told twice. They gave a little cheer and Bev took their hands and the three of them headed for the house, Doug following at a more sedate pace. Amanda looked back at me with a worried expression before disappearing into the house.

I watched them go, wondering what had just happened. Well, no, it was obvious. They knew I was a mess and they were giving me space. I simultaneously appreciated it and was disgusted with myself for so obviously needing it. I was going to be 48 in March. I was too goddamn old for this self-inflicted bullshit.

"C'mon, babe," Mat softly said, tugging on my hand to lead me back to the car.

"I'm sorry," I stated in a rough voice. "This is my own fault."

"There's no fault anywhere. Everything's fine."

"You kept trying to get me to talk to them and I kept chickening out."

"I wasn't going to push."

_Why? Why don't you push anymore?_

I wanted to let it go, I really did, but I knew, no matter how I wished I didn't, that things were sort of coming to a head with this trip. Mat wasn't pushing, the way he had before we really started seeing each other. Our living situation was bothering me, and I was keeping it to myself, when I had promised Mat I wouldn't sit on things. I saw Mat watching me sometimes with something very obviously on his mind, and I was always too afraid to ask what it was, so I never said anything, and neither did he. That hadn't worked with Alex, and Alex had been a lot more easy-going than Mat.

"Why?" I croaked as Mat let go of my hand to fish out the keys and pop the trunk. Mat sighed through his nose, and I put my hand over his on the lid of the trunk. "Why?" I repeated.

He looked at me with a patient expression. Or maybe it was a weary one, I couldn't tell. "Because I love you," he stated.

"Mat," I whispered. "I love you too, so much, but...you...you don't have to _coddle_ me." I was just slightly horrified to realize what he had been doing.

"I'm not. Or at least I didn't think I was." He took my hand and held it to his chest. "You were having a really rough time after you came back in August, and I didn't want to add to it in any way, and...it just sort of became a habit." He squeezed my hand and smiled at me. "Things have been really good, though, right?"

"Yes, absolutely, but…"

"But?"

"But not if it's at any cost to you."

Mat frowned and let out a short laugh. "What cost?"

"Biting your tongue. Putting up with things you shouldn't have to put up with."

He shook his head, his frown deepening. "I don't put up with anything I don't want to put up with." He froze then added in a rush, "I'm not putting up with anything period, that came out wrong."

"But there's things you want to say that you don't," I pressed. "I can tell." Mat looked down at our hands. "Mat honey…" I tilted up his chin then put my hand on his cheek. He met my eyes and I went on in a dismayed tone, "You don't have to do that. Have I made it seem like you need to do that?"

He shook his head. "No, of course not." He took my hand off his cheek and held it together with the other one. "Have I done that with you?"

"No, not at all." Whatever I kept to myself was for my own internal reasons and had nothing to do with Mat, and anything he did or didn't do, or said or didn't say. I'd trusted Alex more than any other human being in my life, and it had been hard for me to share everything. It had taken years to do so. Mat and I had only been together a few months. The situation wasn't at all the same. I had to be patient, that was all. I wanted to do things on Mat's timeline, not mine.

"All right." There was the slightest note of doubt in his voice. Or maybe I was reading too much into it. He smiled at me then gave my hand a quick kiss. "It's going to be a good week, babe," he vowed as he let go to lift the lid of the trunk. "Just try to relax a little, okay? Mom and Dad aren't going to be watching you for missteps or probing for flaws. They just want to get to know you and Panda. No ulterior motives or expectations. I wouldn't set you up for that."

A touch of hurt in my voice, I said, "I'd never think you were setting me up. For anything."

"That came out wrong too," he said with regret as he pulled out the suitcases.

I didn't say anything more as I helped him unload the trunk. The girls had their own personal backpacks with them, plus they had a suitcase each. There were four suitcases here, totally manageable, plus my laptop bag. I'd made sure to keep my schedule clear for this week, but I wanted to keep on top of anything that might come in, including the final copyright registration for my little spoon guy. It was taking a lot longer than I'd thought it would, but the slow grind of the wheels of governmental bureaucracy could never be underestimated.

We were able to get everything in one trip, and as we walked up the driveway I saw Mat's father in the doorway. It made my stomach tighten up uncomfortably, wondering if he had been watching us. Surely I would have noticed if he had been?

Doug called out, "You boys got all that?"

"Yeah, we're good," Mat called back.

Doug nodded and looked between the two of us then nodded again and went back into the house, leaving the door open.

Monday. It was only Monday.

* * *

Tuesday. It was only Tuesday, Tuesday morning at that, less than 24 hours since our arrival, and already I was being thrown to the wolves.

I watched Mat and his mom get into the rental car to run to the store, and it felt like I was being abandoned. The girls were in the living room, watching a movie with Doug, and I was more than welcome to join them, I was sure. The way I hadn't been welcome to join Mat and his mom. They hadn't even hinted that I was invited to tag along.

Mat's parents were genuinely nice. They hadn't given me any reason to be uptight, or worry that they disliked me, though it hadn't stopped either from happening. Doug was a quiet guy, just as Mat had said, so he was hard to get a read on, but he hadn't scowled at me or made any passive-aggressive comments, or acted weird about our relationship. Awkward, maybe, as if unsure of what to say, but even Bev was, as if they were afraid to say the wrong thing, much the way I was with them. They had been welcoming though, including me in whatever was being discussed, treating me like a guest. But I still couldn't relax around either of them. I had to say I was a lot less relaxed around Doug, though.

_We just got here. It hasn't even been 24 hours. We're all still feeling things out. They're still just getting to know you._

I knew all that. I really did. But it wasn't helping much.

I heard the thump of Doug's cane coming up behind me as Mat and Bev backed out of the driveway, and I had to stifle a whimper of dread. Mat waved at me with a grin, and I gave him a weak wave in return while screaming inside _Take me with yoooou!_

"Mitchell," Doug said.

Christ.

I turned around and plastered an expression of pleasant neutrality on my face.

Doug studied me for a moment, looking over my face like he was trying to pick my brain. His brow creased ever so slightly, just the tiniest bit, but I'd spent most of my childhood trying to read my parents' moods, trying to read the lay of the land and head off disaster, and I could tell I was not successfully pulling this off. I heard a very soft huff of breath come out of his nose, then he motioned with his head to follow him.

"Got something I'd like to show you," he said, then walked off as if my compliance in the matter was a foregone conclusion.

I followed. I saw him heading for a door that I hadn't really paid much attention to in passing. I'd assumed it was a coat closet, linen closet, something. I noticed it had a hook and eye latch way up high, out of a child's reach, though it wasn't currently fastened, and when he opened the door and flipped on the light switch I saw a set of stairs leading down. Into a basement.

Doug was taking me into the basement.

Did he want to go talk, away from the girls?

_Oh shit_...was I going to get the shovel talk? Was he going to start cleaning a gun in front of me while asking what my intentions were towards his son? He'd been in the Army. More than that, he'd retired from the Army. He'd been a soldier most of his adult life. Maybe he was nearly 70, but I could guarantee that he was vastly tougher than me in every respect. The cane also gave him a huge advantage. I had no pain tolerance. One swift whack across the shins and I'd be down for the count.

Doug saw me hesitate, and he barked out a short laugh. "You think you're getting the talk, is that it?"

I swallowed and said with a grimace, "The thought may have, um...crossed my mind."

He shook his head and started down the stairs. "You two might be a bit too old for that, don't you think?"

"I um, wasn't certain there was a time limit on these things." I followed him though, if for no other reason than to try to catch him if he started to fall. The cane was to help support his bad back, so his legs were fine. He seemed like he was getting along all right, but I was well aware of his cane on the stairs and how risky it seemed.

"Mat's always made his own choices. From what he's told us, he put a lot of thought into this one. Haven't seen any reason yet to question it."

I didn't know what to say to that. It was...flattering? I supposed? But then, it also sounded like he was still reserving judgment, maybe? Yet. He'd said 'yet'. To my mind that meant that the jury was still out.

The basement was cooler than the rest of the house, but it was finished and somewhat heated. The laundry room was down there, along with a chest freezer and some storage space. Doug led me over to a corner and turned on another light there, and…

"Wow," I whispered.

There were shelves on the wall full of tiny vehicles, some of them obviously quite old. Tiny cars and trucks, some of them pulling tiny trailers. Tiny motorhomes. Tiny tractors and farm equipment. The shelves were above a large workbench holding a current project, with paint and little brushes and a Dremel tool with cases of bits, all the things Doug must use to refurbish the old toy cars. There was also a little boombox with stacks of CDs.

"These are fantastic," I breathed as I went to look at the shelves, while making certain that I didn't actually breathe on anything. Only some of the vehicles were finished, others were in the cleaning stage, others partly refinished.

"Thank you," he said with a note of pride in his voice. "Can't spend as much time on it as I'd like, with the back and all."

I could imagine sitting hunched over the table on a stool wasn't comfortable. "I'm sure there must be better seats you could get, that would provide more support. It would be a shame to not keep doing something you love." And he clearly loved it, with the amount of detail he put into the work.

"Might look into that. The stairs are getting to be a problem, but not much I can do about that." He motioned to the shelves. "You can pick them up if you'd like. None of them have any fresh paint."

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Well it's all right if you do."

I contented myself with rolling back and forth a little truck pulling a horse trailer. "There's a horse inside!" I said with delight. "Wow." My wariness was forgotten for the moment. I laughed and glanced at him then back. "When I was a kid, I used to love making tiny...god, what would you call them? Houses. I would make tiny beds out of half walnut shells, with a leaf as a blanket, and try to find caterpillars or something to put in them. And of course they'd never stay put, but I'd make entire houses for them." And of course sometimes one of my two next oldest brothers would break what I'd made, but not often, and sometimes they helped. My father had never approved of my creations, but he hadn't been able to find a reason to come down on me for it either, and so I'd been left to my own devices when it came to that.

Doug laughed quietly. "Think we've all done that."

My eyes landed on the car next to the truck and trailer set. It was a beautiful teal blue Camaro Z28, early 90s. I looked at Doug and he motioned for me to go ahead and pick it up, but I shook my head. "No, it's… all right." I bit my lip, feeling a wave of nostalgia. And loss. I motioned to the car and said, "My um...husband. He had one of these when we were first dating. A little different blue, but…the same other than that." He had been so damn proud of that car. We used to roll up to the clubs in that car to go dancing, the stereo blaring and thumping obnoxiously, one of those 90's aftermarket stereos where you could pop off the faceplate so the stereo didn't get stolen.

"Mat says you were together a long time."

"Twenty-two years, yes," I murmured. We were talking. This was good. The subject matter was suddenly very much not good, but at least we were talking. "He's been gone for two, but…" I drew in a deep breath. I wasn't going to cry. I'd been doing better, since seeing the new therapist. The grief wasn't as raw as it had been. Some part of me resented that it wasn't, missed feeling that nice, sharp pain when I thought of Alex. It still hurt, and some days were worse than others, but it wasn't like it was before going back to therapy. Before Mat. I finally picked up the car and added, "I didn't lose him the way Mat lost Rosa. At least I didn't go through that. And Alex didn't either."

"There's good and bad either way," he said. He sounded sympathetic, a tiny bit gruff, but the kind of gruffness that some men had as the only way they could show certain emotions. "I lost a lot of friends in the war. Some quick. Some not. Some later, after we came back. None of the losses were any easier than the others. Sometimes things never go away. You just learn to… cope."

"Yes," I whispered, nodding. Of course he understood. "Mat's been a big help. Really supportive, to me and Amanda. I'll always be grateful for that."

"He knows what it's like." Doug made a sound of discomfort and took a seat on the stool, putting the cane between his legs. "Can't remember the last time either of us saw him play the piano, but he did last night."

I nodded, setting the car back on the shelf, wondering where Doug was going with this. Mat had played after dinner for everyone, an unfamiliar song, but he'd smiled at me while he played it. His mother had looked about ready to pop, she had been so happy. Mat played at...home. Well, his home. Sometimes. He played the guitar nearly every day, but the piano was something he only played once or twice a week, as far as I knew.

"Bev said he told her he's been writing again."

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling heat creeping up it. "Um...yes, I think he has been." I knew he had been, at least that one song he'd written for me. I hadn't heard him sing any others, but he did play bits and pieces that I wasn't familiar with, sometimes in a distracted way, as if trying to work something out. I never said anything about it, afraid to...disrupt the creative process or something. He hadn't played any of the new songs at either of the open mic nights we'd gone to, the one this month and October's, though each time he'd played the song he'd written for me. I had sung a bit with him, both times, and it had been clear how much joy it had brought him. Seeing Mat happy like that and knowing I was the cause meant the world to me. The crowd's reaction had been nice too, though I knew it was Mat they were applauding.

"And you paint, he says." He waved his hand at the desk and wall. "Paintings, nothing like this."

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

"Or used to," Doug added.

"Yes, I used to." I sighed and let my hand fall. "I keep meaning to pick it back up, but…" I shook my head and shrugged. I hadn't been able to make myself do it. I didn't have any motivation to. I hadn't since Alex died, and the block had lasted so long now that I didn't know how to break it. I could doodle on my tablet, sketch things, but I couldn't bring myself to even set up an area to paint in.

"Seems a shame not to do something you enjoy doing."

I looked at him and he had the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Just like Mat sometimes did. I laughed sadly and turned back to the shelves. "Point taken, but…" I shrugged helplessly. "It just isn't... _there_ , anymore. I have the space now, with Amanda away at college, but…" God, I didn't want to get into this. I really, really did not. It touched on things I hadn't even discussed with my friends. Not even my best friend, Craig. Not that I didn't already know what Craig would say. He would tell me I was being a coward, and tell me to talk to Mat about moving in together, and tell me to sell my house or rent it out. He was definitely a results-oriented guy.

It was like I could imagine a tiny Craig, sitting on my shoulder, telling me all these things. It was an...incredibly weird day when I could imagine Craig Cahn being anything approximating a conscience to me.

"Too much space, maybe," he said in understanding.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Maybe," I replied with a thoughtful nod. "It doesn't feel like home without her there, and...there isn't…" I grimaced. There wasn't anyone else there to take my mind off it. "It helps, having Carmen around. She's an amazing kid, and I adore her, but…" She wasn't my daughter.

"She isn't Amanda. I get that. So does Mat."

"Oh. Well, that's...good." I cleared my throat and picked up a tiny John Deere tractor, being careful not to dislodge the equally tiny driver in the seat.

"She says you help get her off to school a few days a week."

I nodded. "It's nice. A nice...routine. That we have." God, that sounded resentful. I was horrible at hiding how I felt, and even barely knowing me I was certain Doug had picked it up. I smiled at him and held up the tractor. "Is the rubber on the tires original? It's really in...in really amazing condition. For um...yes." I set the tractor back down. "Thank you for showing me these. They really are fantastic." It reminded me a bit of Hugo's wrestling collection, but I wasn't sure that Mat knew about it, so I didn't mention it to his dad.

"Seemed something you might like. Man's got to have something to keep his hands busy. Seen too many friends retire and waste away in front of the tv." Doug pointed to the top shelf. "I started with those ones, up on the very top. Bev was cleaning out some of Mat's old things to send to him, about seven years ago. Found a box of his old toys, and in there were some old cars. A lot of them were too beat to hell to salvage, but those ones there, they were still in good shape, just the paint had flaked off. Mat didn't want them, neither did Carmensita. Bev wanted to donate them, but…" He shook his head. "I didn't want them just...gone, you know? So I tossed the broken ones and held on to the others. Took them out every so often to look at them. Tried to remember what they'd looked like new. So I looked them up online." He let out a little laugh. "Didn't realize there was a whole bunch of guys out there already doing it, but I thought, what the hell, I'm gonna try my hand at it. Took some time to get anything that looked all right, but… they're all right."

"More than all right," I said with all sincerity. "They're amazing." Doug murmured his thanks, sounding a little embarrassed. I looked at the cars up top. Mat's old toy cars. I laughed and said, "I'm trying to imagine Mat as a kid, playing with those. I kept a lot of Amanda's old toys as well. For when she has kids, if she wants them. It'd be nice to have some grandkids someday, but… that's up to her."

"You don't have anything of yours, I take it."

_And there it is_.

When I didn't answer right away Doug said, "Mat told me about them. Your parents, or whatever you'd call people who'd do what they did. I'm not going to pick at that. Just asking if you have anything at all from back then."

I shook my head. "No." My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes on Mat's cars. "My mother gave me $300 on my last day of school. Said she'd been collecting it for me. Told me it was a 'graduation gift'. As if I didn't know what it was really for. I already had my things packed when my father told me to get my things together and get the hell out of his house. I had only what I could fit into a backpack and a duffle bag." I took in a deep breath and blew it out. "So to answer your question, no. No old toys or childhood photos or anything. Maybe the family held a ritual and burned it all in the backyard afterward, who knows." I winced. "Sorry. You didn't need to hear that."

Doug grunted, and when I looked at him he was scowling, and looking very much like Mat at that moment. We stared at each other silently for a few seconds before he said in very precise, clipped words, "You know, Mat and I don't always see eye to eye. Back when he was a kid, or now. There were times when he was young when I swore that kid came from another planet or something. But not once, _not once_ , did it cross my mind to put him out, and for what? For things that didn't hurt anybody. Dressing weird. Listening to music I couldn't stand. Liking boys _and_ girls. Not wanting to go to church with me and his mom. When he left home saying he was going to live in his van and make a living off his music I thought he was out of his damn mind, but all I did was tell him to be careful and that he always had somewhere to come back to. And he came back plenty, when money got tight, when his pride would let him, and never once did I say 'I told you so'. He's my _child_. Wouldn't matter if I had a half dozen others to fall back on, Mat's my child, and he always will be." He huffed in aggravation. "And you get that. I know you get that."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I do," I whispered.

He nodded as well then slid off the stool. "Enough of that. Need some coffee. Black coffee, none of that crazy stuff he makes."

As he shut off the light I said, "I ordered black coffee the first time we met. He called it 'classic'."

Doug laughed. "Did he, now. He always told me it was boring. Funny how that is." We headed for the stairs, and as we went up he said, "When Bev gets home I think it's time to dig out the old albums. Keep him humble."

"Yes, absolutely." There had been a few old pictures of Mat up around their house, and my god had he been adorable. He was adorable now too, but seeing those big eyes and round dimpled cheeks on his earlier pictures had just been too much.

Doug turned off the light and closed up the basement, then we headed into the kitchen for coffee.

Wow. I hadn't expected any of that, or for him to be so understanding.

_Mat told you they would be. You should've listened to Mat. You should've trusted his judgment._

I should have. I really should have.

When Mat and Bev returned, Doug and I were sitting at the dining room table with the girls playing dominoes and drinking coffee, and Mat looked between us with a big grin and came over to lay his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "What've you guys been up to?" he asked.

"Trying to learn Mexican train and failing," I answered in a mutter as I read the rulebook for the nth time. I was a master of all forms of tabletop games, so why was this one so blasted hard for me?

Doug interjected, "Nah, you're doing all right."

Mat's hand went to the back of my neck, and I let the booklet fall to the table and looked up at him. He searched my eyes then smiled, seeming pleased with what he found there, and I smiled back at him. I loved him so much. He kissed my forehead then went into the kitchen to help his mom unpack the groceries.

I watched him go then turned my attention back to the game, my face warm, trying to ignore that his father had been watching us. He didn't react that I could tell. Not that I expected him to. The girls paid no attention at all to either of us, and that had definitely been expected.

Things were good, and got better from there. Mat's parents were okay. I was okay. Everything was.

No, Mat's parents were better than okay. They were great, just as he'd said they would be. As the week went on I felt more and more comfortable around them, enough that I wasn't looking for a reaction every time Mat and I showed affection to each other. Or a bad reaction, rather. I felt comfortable enough around them to sing with Mat the night before we had to go home, and not worry over how sappy we looked, him playing the guitar and smiling softly at me, me doing the same back to him, as we sang something he and Rosa had written long ago. Mat's parents watched us, the two of them sitting on the couch close to each other, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Doug take Bev's hand, and Bev lay her other on top and pat it.

Yes, things were good.

Every so often...once in a while...things turned out every bit as good as I could have hoped for.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for familial confrontation (sort of) and arguing.

"You guys want to do what, now?" 

Mat looked between me and Pablo with a baffled expression, and Pablo said, "Merchandising, dude." His tone implied that the whole thing was self-explanatory.

"Coffee Spoon merchandising? Seriously?" he asked in disbelief. "Man, I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Nothing complicated. Look." Pablo held out his phone, showing Mat the tee shirts and window decals that he had come up with, using my newer (and now copyrighted) art.

Mat looked down at Pablo's phone again then let out a short laugh and looked sideways at me. He seemed completely bewildered by all this. "Your coffee spoon guy," he said with a note of surprised warmth in his voice. 

Or at least I thought it was warmth. His expression was sweet, anyway. Touched. His voice was a bit croaky, from the tail end of the cold he'd caught on the plane on the way home from his parents' house. It was a mild one this time, nothing like he'd caught this summer, but I had made sure that the moment he'd gotten a tickle in his throat that I'd hurried to the store to get everything to make a big batch of chicken noodle soup. I'd had some leftover frozen sofrito from last spring, but not quite enough to make extra soup to put away, so it had been a good excuse to make more, with Carmensita's help. Not that I needed an excuse to make soup for the man I loved.

I stated, "It's completely up to you whether we do this or not. It was Pablo's idea, but...it's a pretty good one."

"The 'but' was kinda unnecessary, dude," the kid said under his breath.

"Sorry."

Mat rubbed his jaw as he looked at the pictures. "Wow," he said in amazement. "These are…"

Pablo and I held our breath.

" _ Great _ ," Mat finished. "It never occurred to me to… Wow."

We both relaxed, and Pablo grinned from ear to ear. "All right," he said. "I can get a prototype tee shirt in a couple weeks. Whatever color you want. Decals too."

"Can you send me these and let me think about it?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem." Pablo took back his phone and began swiping and poking at it as he went back to the front of the store.

I got up off the couch, saying, "I should get back home. Brian's coming over at 10:30 to look at shoring up the fence." We had come home from Atlanta to find that there had been a minor storm, and the fence between Mat's backyard and mine was now looking very iffy. It was old, and I'd known it would need replacing eventually, some of the posts a bit rotten, but I hadn't bargained for it being so soon. Mat and I would split the cost when it came time to replace it, obviously, but it was still more of an expense than I had anticipated incurring until next summer, when Amanda was out of school.

Mat stood and took my hand, saying, "Hey, I've been thinking...we can put off fixing the fence. Do we really need a fence between our yards? Maybe ask Brian how much to just take it down."

No fence between our yards? I wasn't sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, no, of course we didn't need a fence. Neither of us had small children or pets to keep corralled in. If I ever did get pets, it would be an indoor cat or two. We could easily share what would essentially be one big backyard. 

But on the other hand, it just...didn't sit well with me. That we were having to negotiate this. That we were still neighbors, no matter what else we were. Four months now we'd been together, and it still chafed that living together hadn't come up. I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to broach that subject. Mat and Carmensita couldn't live in my house, since it was smaller than theirs, and it wasn't fair to expect her to move, so I'd have to go live with them. Mat was going to have to extend that invitation, and I honestly couldn't begin to guess as to when he ever would.

I frowned and looked outside. A few flakes were falling, threatening snow. While nothing heavy was forecast we just never knew what we were going to get. I wanted to get home before it got much later, with the weather chancy, and I'd woken up with a mild headache that wasn't going away on its own the way they usually did. If I didn't take something for it soon it could potentially take a turn for the worse. I'd been lucky that I hadn't had a migraine in a while, and I didn't want to risk it.

I finally answered, "Maybe we should just take it down for now. I can't really afford…" I trailed off as I noticed a man on the sidewalk watching us through the window. Watching me. When our eyes met he visibly swallowed and a faint tremor went through him. I was sure I had no idea who he was, but he looked eerily familiar. He was around the same age as me, wearing an expensive-looking wool coat over a suit, with a fine scarf around his neck, leather gloves, woolen knit hat. The man drew himself up and headed for the front door, I assumed to come inside.

Mat grunted and asked, "Do you know that guy?"

"No, but he looks really familiar. Maybe...we went to college together? High school? I have no idea."

"He seems to know you."

I heard the bells on the door jingle, and Mat kept hold of my hand as I turned to look at the guy. I heard Mat suck in a breath and his hand tighten on mine as the man approached, as if Mat himself recognized him, which seemed impossible, but for the life of me I still couldn't place him. He was really good-looking, with a well-trimmed white beard over a chiseled jaw, and when he stopped about six feet away I noticed how blue his eyes were. Yeah, definitely handsome, ridiculously so, and I had no clue who he was, and felt like I should.

"Mitch," the guy whispered. "It  _ is  _ you. I uh...oh boy."

"My name is Mitchell, and do I know you?" I replied in aggravation. I  _ hated  _ that name. No one I had gone to school with had called me that. I'd made sure of it. The only people who… who…

No.  _ Nonononono _ .

"I...suppose you wouldn't… Shit," he said in a trembling voice. "I'm uh...your brother Bradley. Brad."

White noise filled my ears. I suddenly couldn't feel my fingers.

He went on, "I was going to your house. I found where you live and was stopping here for coffee when I saw you, and--"

"Get out," Mat growled.

Brad held up his hands and said, "Look, I just...I just want to talk to him for a bit. I get that he hasn't wanted--"

Mat made a sound of bewilderment and exclaimed, "What the fuck do you mean,  _ he  _ hasn't? Your father threw him out onto the fucking street!"

Brad stared for a long moment then shook his head. "That isn't what we were told."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," Mat sneered. "I'm sure good old dad had an excuse, and your mom backed him up. They can both burn in hell for it." He pointed to the door. "Leave."

"Dad's dead." Brad directed the statement at me. "He died a few weeks ago, and Mom's been sick and wants to see you." 

"Get the fuck out," I whispered, the shock giving way to anger. Fury.

Brad made a sound of frustration. "Look, I get that you're angry, if Dad really--"

"I spent that entire summer fucking  _ homeless! _ " I shouted. Brad flinched, and I let go of Mat's hand to move towards him, making him tense up. " _ If _ he did?  _ If _ ? Are you fucking kidding me? He didn't even have the guts to tell the truth about what he did? I'm not going to repeat the things he said to me, the things he called me, and Mom stood there crying and didn't say a word in my defense! Not one goddamn word!"

Brad swallowed and blinked, staring at me with a horrified expression.

I said without regret, "Dad's dead? Good. Don't expect me to care when Mom goes either, and you can tell her that. Tell her I hope whatever that motherfucker paid her was worth selling out her own kid."

His jaw dropped. "Mom wouldn't do that," he stammered.

"You think back," I said in a hiss. "You think back to when we were kids. You think back to all the things Mom used to do with me, how she babied me, and then you think about when it stopped. You think about the times we heard them arguing before that, and then it stopped, and Dad took over. You think long and hard about that, and you go back to Mom and make her tell you the truth, then you can tell her from me that she can go fuck herself and that I will  _ never  _ forgive her, not as long as I live. I'm not shedding a single tear over either of those assholes. All of you just stay the fuck away from me."

"I can't tell her that," Brad stated, his voice shaking. "It would kill her."

"I don't care." I honestly didn't. The news that my father was dead didn't matter one bit, and her death wouldn't mean anything more than his, and maybe even less. My father had been an asshole from day one, but my mother had been loving to me once upon a time, and that made her betrayal a thousand times worse.

"Whatever she might've done, she's still my mother, my kids' grandmother."

"My daughter could've used a grandmother. Especially after her dad died. Did you know my husband died a couple years ago? Could've really used some family around then, but, well, you know, I don't have one." It made a sick knot of envy curdle in my gut, thinking about my brothers and their wives and kids, about all the family gatherings they must have had, all the Thanksgivings and Christmases and Easters together, the birthdays, the...everything that automatically came with being part of a family. I hadn't had any of that until Craig had started taking me home with him for holidays, and then Alex and I had started doing our own. But it wasn't the same. There was no way it could be the same.

"I didn't know," Brad said in a choked voice. "We didn't know any of this!"

"And yet none of you would've gone against Dad to help me even if you had known." I pointed at the door. "Get the fuck out, and don't come back. Any of you."

Brad looked at Mat, a pleading expression on his face, eyes glinting with unshed tears. Mat put his arm around me and quietly said, "You need to leave. This is my business, Mitchell's my partner, and you need to leave. Please."

Brad looked down at his hands and nodded. He looked at me one last time, with a face that was suddenly too much like my own, and our father's, then he turned away and left. I watched to make sure he was leaving, and I saw him get into a shiny new black Mercedes. Of course. Of course Bradley Alan Coleman was driving a Mercedes. S Class, too. Of course. Maybe he was a doctor like our father and oldest brother, or a lawyer, or whatever it was that respectable Colemans became. I couldn't remember what he had been going to college for when I was thrown out. As if it mattered.

"Hey," Mat whispered.

I squeezed and flexed my hands, trying to get the tingling sensation in my fingers to go away. My head was tingling weirdly too, besides aching. Thirty years. Nearly 30 years since I had seen a single person in my family. I had always had an underlying fear every time I went up to Boston that I would run into one of them, though it had lessened every year that went by and it didn't happen. And now, now at this point in my life, one of my brothers had shown up, in my own neighborhood. At my partner's business. All to tell me that the person who had betrayed me worst of all finally wanted to see me, now that the man holding the purse strings was gone. That she was trying to see me now was grossly offensive.

"Mitchell, sweetheart--"

"I need to go home," I whispered roughly. The home that Brad knew the location of. It wasn't as if it was difficult to find where anyone with a credit history lived by poking around online.

"I'll walk you, if that's okay."

"I don't think I'm going to be very pleasant to be around right now."

He hesitated then said, "I don't mind."

I growled in frustration, trying to let go of my anger, and rubbed my hands over my face. Thank god there hadn't been anyone else here. No one else but Pablo, and while I very much wished he hadn't seen and heard all that, he was a kind, empathetic kid and wouldn't spread it around. Not that I had anything to be ashamed of, but I didn't want anyone's pity, or to rehash everything. Just by being here Brad had made it all fresh again.

Mom wanted to see me, now that Dad was dead and she was sick and maybe not too far behind him. Hell no. No fucking way. She was going to her death bed knowing I would never forgive her, and knowing that at least one of my brothers knew the truth. Brad would probably tell the other two, Michael and Gregory. Maybe they would believe it, maybe not. I was pretty sure Brad did. I was also pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to help asking our mother what had really happened. I didn't know any of my brothers anymore, not one bit, but from the look on his face and his reactions, I had the feeling he wasn't going to just let all this go. The way he and the others had let me go.

Frankly I didn't care. Just as long as they all left me alone. Permanently.

"Or we can just sit for a bit," Mat suggested.

"No, I...I need to go home." This headache was not going away, and was guaranteed to only get worse as stressed out and angry as I was.

"Okay. No problem."

Mat let go of me, and I was guiltily glad of it. I didn't want anyone touching me when I was angry, not even him. I was scared to death that I was going to snap at him if he went with me, and as I put on my coat with brusque movements I had to tell myself over and over again that it wouldn't be the end of the world if I did, and that Mat loved me, and that I had to do whatever it took to not snap at him to begin with. The last thing I wanted was to hurt his feelings in any way.

He put on his coat and murmured something to Pablo then joined me where I waited at the front door, scanning the street both directions to make sure my brother was gone. It wasn't as if I feared he would follow me; he knew where I lived, after all, so he'd hardly need to.

We walked silently as we made our way back to our street, not holding hands, and the walk was long enough, and the weather cold enough, to take some of the edge off my mood. I was still deeply pissed off, and hurting, a bad combination with me. I didn't have much of a temper anymore, but the temper I did have was nasty and snide, something I was not in the least proud of, and I really, really did not want Mat to be on the receiving end of that.

My house wasn't nearly warm enough inside, and I turned the heat up, just a couple degrees, because I wasn't one of the rich Colemans who didn't have to worry about petty things like heating bills.

God, I hated this. I hated being this person again.

"We forgot your mug," Mat sighed. "Let me make you some coffee."

"Sure," I whispered. Bad. This was a bad idea, letting Mat take me home. I threw my coat on the couch then sat down hard on it to untie my boots, and after I kicked those off I got up again, feeling restless, still seething, and on top of it the headache had gotten worse on the way home. Fabulous. I went into the bathroom briefly to relieve myself and take something for it, but from the way it was quickly getting worse I feared it was too late.

Right. Yeah, all right, fine, I believed my parents had lied to everyone about why I was suddenly gone from the house. I believed Brad, that he and my brothers hadn't known; Brad and Greg had been away at college, and Michael at his residency. But none of them had cared enough to go looking for me once they found out I was gone, to make sure I was okay or try to talk me into coming back home, or if they had cared they hadn't wanted to stand up to our father or go around him. He hadn't been all warm and fuzzy with them either, but he hadn't treated them anywhere close to the cold, callous way he had treated me.

Why should any of them care, though? Of my three brothers, Brad and I had been the closest, relatively speaking, if only because we were closest in age, less than two years apart, but we hadn't been close per se. Greg had been four years older than me and Michael seven. My oldest brother had never had a shred of interest in me and had been a stranger by time I'd been thrown out.

I felt Mat watching me from the kitchen as I paced back and forth, down the short length of the hall then back to the front door, back and forth, back and forth, until I finally got sick of it and went into Amanda's room to sit on her bed. She had taken her family pictures with her to college, so I didn't have those to look at, but I could really, really use the sight of Alex's face right now, no matter how bad an idea that was.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up my photo sharing account. Fuck it. I was feeling like a glutton for punishment today. Positively masochistic.

Our first Christmas in our house together. The baby shower our friends had thrown us, when we'd gotten the news that the adoption papers had been signed and Amanda would be ours as soon as she was born. Amanda's first Christmas. All her birthday parties. All our anniversaries. All our Thanksgivings, many of them with our friends, some of whom had kids of their own. Friends that I still needed to reconnect with further, if it wasn't too late. Friends that still called and supported Amanda, even after I had shut them out. Friends that had known and loved Alex as long as I had, in some cases longer. Friends that had helped us make memories together.

So many memories, of the time when I'd actually had a family, before that had been taken from me too.

I heard Mat come in behind me then stop partway into the room. I heard him sniff then stifle a cough in his elbow.

"Coffee's brewing," he stated, sounding uncertain.

_ Mitchell strikes again. _

"Thank you," I murmured in reply. "I appreciate it." Or I would, once I worked this out. Somehow.

"Maybe uh...maybe you should stay with me tonight."

"It's Wednesday."

"What does that…" Mat sounded incredulous, then trailed off. 

I heard him fidgeting back there, playing with the bracelets on his wrist, and I didn't know what to say to him. I opened up the folder of the last vacation our family had taken together, right after Amanda had gotten out of school her sophomore year, before that last business trip Alex had taken. We had gone up to Bar Harbor in Maine and had spent a long weekend on Mount Desert Island. I was so glad that we'd been able to squeeze in that last little vacation together.

I couldn't even imagine what Alex would have done if he had been there when Bradley showed up. He would have taken it even worse than Mat had. He hadn't been a fighter, not the way I had been in my late teens and early twenties, but he would have had some extremely choice words for Brad.

Mat said in a hesitant voice, "When you said you don't have a family...you meant you didn't back then, right?"

Shit. I closed the app and stood and slid the phone into my pocket. "Yes, that's what I meant," I answered. I rubbed my hand over my head, the headache worsening by the minute. I hadn't cried looking at the pictures, hadn't even really felt I'd needed to, just felt a sense of deep loss. I wondered if my mother had felt that at all when my father died, or if she'd been relieved instead.

Mat came around to look me in the eye, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. "You have family."

"Mat...this really isn't…" I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling it tightening up, and looked up at the ceiling. "Good timing."

I heard him make a scoffing sound of disbelief. "Good timing? For what, for me to say you have a family, and you to...what, not agree?"

"I never said I disagreed."

"But you didn't say you agreed, either. I said you have a family and you told me it wasn't good timing." He was upset, and maybe a little angry. When I kept my eyes on the ceiling he said in a hurt voice, "You think you don't have family. After I took you and Amanda to see my folks."

God, he was going to make me do this. He wasn't going to let this go. Mat never let anything go. Sometimes you'd think he had, but he never did, only saved it for later. He wasn't going to save this for later, and if I didn't talk about this now he'd only stew on it and it would be worse later on. This though, this was a much bigger issue than any of the minor misunderstandings we'd had. This wasn't a misunderstanding at all. Mat was understanding me loud and clear.

I stated in a careful tone, "And we had a wonderful time. I liked your parents a great deal."

"Man, don't talk around this," he said in aggravation. "Don't do that thing you do where you dance around the subject to avoid a fight. Just come out and say it: you don't think you have a family." 

Okay then. Fine. If he wanted my unvarnished honesty then he was going to get it. I'd been trying to avoid this conversation for months, but we were both worked up enough that my natural tendency towards avoiding confrontation was worn whisper thin. The headache wasn't helping either.

My hands fell and I motioned around the room. "My daughter is gone, and I live alone in this house," I stated in a rough voice.

Mat exclaimed, "We spend nearly every night together!"

"And that's just what it is: spending the night. Sleeping over. Families don't live in separate houses and have sleepovers." His eyes widened as his mouth fell open slightly. I pointed a finger and him and added, "And I am not,  _ not _ , making an issue of it, or saying anything's wrong. I am well aware, I am more than aware, that we've only been together four months, and I'm not pushing for anything or unhappy with our relationship in any way. Alex and I dated for seven months before we moved--"

"That's got nothing to do with you and me. It isn't the same at all."

I slowly drew in a deep breath and massaged the back of my neck as I said with extreme patience in my voice, "I'm just saying that we've only been together four months and that I understand these things take time, but I can't consider someone family on a part-time basis. I love you and Carmensita, and I love the time we spend together, but to me family is the people you live with."

"Family is the people who care about you, who are always there for you," he said in disagreement.

"Those are friends. To me, if you don't live with those people, they're just very good friends. Maybe it's just semantics, but I can't help how I feel about it. The only real family I've ever had were Alex and Amanda, and they're both gone, and no matter how you spin it I live here alone. Even if we spent every night together, it wouldn't change the fact that this is my house, and that one is yours."

"And why  _ don't  _ we spend every night together? Why is that? You know you're welcome, and yet you were the one that set things up the way they are. I'd have you over every night if I could, but you drew a line."

I pursed my lips and looked away from him.

"As if I didn't know," Mat continued. "I've known for the last month that something wasn't right, but I didn't want to rock the boat, so I left it alone, and now here you are saying you don't have a family, and I come in here to find you looking at pictures of the family you did have, so why don't you just come out and say what the problem is?"

"There isn't a problem," I ground out.

"Like hell there isn't. Something about our situation isn't sitting right with you, and instead of talking it out with me you keep it to yourself and leave me guessing."

I rubbed my temples and protested, "I am  _ not  _ leaving you guessing. I'm letting things take their natural course." God, my head was really starting to throb now.

"You mean you're letting me just bump along without a clue what you want or what your timeline is."

"I don't have a timeline!"

"That's part of the problem! And I know damn well why you don't have one, because it's the same damn thing you do where you don't let yourself think about it. You just keep on going day after day taking what you can get. You never ask me for anything. You didn't have any input into the weekend we went away in September. You don't bring up any plans for further out and just go along with whatever I say, you don't even have an opinion on what we make for dinner!"

"Because I'll eat anything!" I exclaimed.

"That isn't the point!"

I laced my fingers behind my head and said through gritted teeth, "I don't want to talk about this. Why are we talking about this right now?"

"Because you were upset about your brother, and instead of turning to me you turned to a fucking ghost, that's why!"

I stared at him, appalled, and utterly wounded.

"Why don't you trust me?" Mat asked, his voice plaintive and cracking a little, from either his cold or emotion, or both. "It's like from the start you've subconsciously had one foot out the door."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I cried, "I would never leave you!" I was just...I couldn't believe this was happening. This was horrible. Everything about the last half hour was horrible, every last bit of it. My head was absolutely pounding now too, which wasn't helping at all. And Brian was due to come over at any moment. And I was supposed to be working.

"Yeah, I know that, but you're always waiting for me to do it to you. You're always waiting for that one misstep that'll be the last straw for me, or waiting for me to get tired of you, and Alex is always there in the background, and I don't know how the hell to compete with that. You won't even give me the chance to." Mat deflated, looking at me with a tired, forlorn expression. "There's something I'm not doing that's keeping you from connecting all the way and I can't figure out what the hell it is. I saw all those pictures and videos of you with Alex and what you gave to him, and I know you miss him but I'm  _ right here _ and I want what you used to give to him and you refuse to do it. You're still grieving him the way you do because you've got all that inside and you're only giving me pieces of it."

Someone rang the doorbell.

Mat and I stared at each other, me on the edge of crying, then he blew out a sputtering breath of frustration and left the room.

He headed for the front door and I bolted for the bathroom and shut myself inside. God, my head was killing me. I got headaches fairly often, but this one was turning into a full-blown migraine. All the pain was starting to concentrate on just one side of my head. It had been a while, so I was overdue, but I got migraines a few times a year and when I did they all started just like this.

I heard Mat talking to Brian, telling him I wasn't feeling good, and wasn't that the goddamn truth. I got out a clean washcloth and ran the coldest water I could get out of the tap, turned off the light then sat down on the toilet lid in the dark and put my head in my hands with the folded up washcloth on my forehead.

Mat asked how much it would cost to just take the fence down for now, and Brian said he'd be glad to do it for a dinner and movie night on an upcoming weekend, him and Daisy, and whatever it cost him in gas and dumping fees to haul away the old lumber in his utility trailer, as long as someone came along to help him take it to the dump. Mat said that sounded more than reasonable, and Brian said he hoped I felt better and took his leave.

Dread settled in the pit of my stomach as I heard Mat's footsteps coming. Or maybe it was the meds I had taken. I'd eaten this morning, though, and had a piece of banana bread at the Coffee Spoon, so I hadn't taken it on an empty stomach. The lack of caffeine was really adding to the headache though. I'd only sipped on my coffee before Brad showed up, and had been planning to drink most of it at home. I could smell the coffee that Mat had started brewing, but the smell wasn't going to do me any good.

He tested the handle of the bathroom door, and when he found it unlocked he knocked before opening it all the way, and when I didn't answer he came in. "Come on, babe, don't hide," he sighed unhappily. He flipped the light switch and I whimpered, and I heard the pill bottle rattle as he picked it up then he sucked in a sharp breath and quickly shut off the light. "Was that why you kept rubbing your head? Why didn't you say something!"

I didn't answer. I couldn't gather my thoughts enough to.

Mat asked in an anxious tone, "What should I do?"

"Coffee," I whispered. "Please." I heard him hurry to the kitchen, and I sat there listening to him fixing it for a bit before I decided I needed to get to bed while I could still navigate.

I put the washcloth on the counter and got up then slowly made my way to my bedroom, and had just closed the blinds and blackout curtains when Mat came back with the coffee. He set it on the dresser and silently helped me take off my clothes and put on some pajamas. He pulled back the covers and sat me down and gave me the coffee, keeping his hands around it to help me drink it. My eyes were barely open at this point. It felt like someone was inside my head using a jackhammer to get out, the pain coming in quick, throbbing pulses.

The coffee was drinkable, and I sucked down as much as I could then laid down, and Mat set the coffee on the night stand then tucked me in.

"My poor baby, everything's always so hard," he whispered in guilty sympathy. "Is it a migraine?" I whined in assent. "Damien gets them all the time. God, I'm so sorry, this is my fault."

"No it isn't. It started at the shop." That weird tingling feeling had definitely been a precursor. I hadn't known that about Damien, though. The poor guy. This only happened to me every three or four months at most. I couldn't imagine dealing with something this debilitating more often.

"But I made it worse."

"No you didn't." _ Yes you did _ . But Mat had been well within his rights. Nothing that he had said had been untrue, or unwarranted. But the timing had been bad, really bad. I heard something rustling around and cracked my eyes open to see Mat getting my phone out of my pants.

"Here." He held my phone out. "Unlock and silence it so no one bugs you." 

I did so and set it on my side table. I didn't even turn on the white noise app. The pounding in my head nearly had a sound of its own. I doubted I would be able to sleep while in this much pain, but I wasn't leaving this bed for anything.

Mat kissed my temple and whispered, "I'll leave you alone, but...I still want to talk about this."

I grumbled and pulled the covers over my head, and I heard him sigh heavily then he rubbed my upper arm and got up and left. I distantly heard the sound of the front door lock turning as he locked up the house.


	26. Chapter 26

I spent the next six hours in absolute misery. I didn't check my phone. I got out of bed only to pee and fill a water bottle to keep nearby and take more medication. It grew dark and when the pain finally started to pass all I wanted was to sleep. At one point I woke up briefly to see the notification light on my phone blinking in the dark, and I reached out and flipped the phone over and fell back asleep. At another later point, I thought maybe someone came into my room, but I felt too out of it to respond to the presence in any way. I wasn't even sure I had actually awakened. Maybe I had imagined it.

When I finally woke all the way the next morning I felt disoriented and bruised and exhausted and completely unable to function. I laid there staring at my computer desk across the room and tried to...something. Anything. I must have stayed like that a good 10 minutes. It was still dark out. Was it the middle of the night? Morning? I had no idea.

I sluggishly rolled over and grabbed my phone. 6:57. In the morning. There was the faintest hint of gray light coming from the edges of the curtains.

I had multiple text messages, and a missed call from Amanda. Mat must have told Damien I was having a migraine, because our friend had texted and said to let him know if I needed anything stronger for it, and to take it easy the next couple days. I would definitely be doing that. Amanda also texted and said she was sorry I wasn't feeling well and that she loved me and would call back the next day. My sweet girl. I missed her so much. She must have contacted Mat when she couldn't get through. And Mat…

Mat had texted a number times over the course of the evening and morning, and...I didn't really know how to process what he had sent.

_ MAT: I'm so sorry for this babe I feel like it's my fault this happened I shouldn't have pushed you right after that thing with your brother I mean it's been 30 years you hadn't seen any of them in almost 30 years and then he shows up and I go and start pushing you why do I do shit like that _

_ MAT: But I still want to talk about this we can't just ignore it I tried to and I should've known something wasn't right maybe it isn't really wrong but it isn't right either and we can't ignore it any longer so when you're up and feeling better we need to talk this out I think I know what it is but we need to talk it out you can't keep holding onto this kind of stuff we have to talk _

_ MAT: Anyway I love you right like I really love you I hope you know that and know how much but I'm thinking maybe you don't and maybe that's my fault maybe it isn't I don't know but I do I really do and we just yeah we need to talk and oh my god is this why you haven't gotten a cat you said you were going to get some cats back in August and you never did and every time I brought it up you just brushed it off oh man it makes so much sense now _

_ MAT: I know you aren't coming over every night because you don't want to impose and I know there's more to it than that because there always is with you and I don't mean that in a bad way it's good I like how you think things over that's great but you've got to tell me stuff like this stuff that has to do with us how can I make things better if you never tell me and things are great and I'm so happy with you but I know something isn't totally right either _

_ MAT: so anyhow Damien said to give you a day or two because that's how long it sometimes takes for migraines to blow over and I'm not going to push you but I'm not letting this go either I'm just letting you know that right now I won't do what I did today I promise but I'm not letting this go you mean too much to me _

Punctuation. There wasn't any. He must've done speech-to-text the way he was prone to doing when he was anxious, but...I just could not absorb what the stream of words meant right now, let alone respond to them.

_ MAT: I came over and checked on you, but you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you up. I put more water in your water bottle.  _

_ MAT: Carmen says she hopes you feel better soon. She says it feels weird to not have you here for dinner. :) Text me when you wake up, doesn't matter what time it is. I love you! _

_ MAT: Good morning babe, I'm at work but please text me when you wake up. It worried me seeing you like that. <3 _

The last few texts made more sense to my battered brain. Two had been sent around 8:00 last night and the very last one about 15 minutes ago. It was so sweet that he had come over to check on me, and a relief that I hadn't imagined it. All I'd gathered from the previous texts was that he was anxious and loved me and wanted to talk. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with any of it right now though. All I knew was that I was exhausted and hungry, and my head had that numb, tender feeling that told me that another headache was right around the corner if I wasn't careful today.

I tried to text him but my fingers didn't want to work on the tiny keyboard, so I mumbled the message instead.

_ ME: Awake but fuzzy love you too _

Mat immediately responded.

_ MAT: Oh good, hey I'll bring you coffee and breakfast when things slow down a bit _

_ ME: ok _

I set my phone down then gingerly pushed myself upright and guzzled down some water then got up to relieve myself. The morning rush didn't start to taper off until about 8:30, and I couldn't wait that long, so I trudged to the kitchen and reheated the coffee Mat had made yesterday, still in the pot. There wasn't much, just enough to have a mug and ward off any rebound headache. I ate a banana and a couple pieces of pastrami, all that I could manage to put together, then drank the coffee. It wasn't as hot as I liked it, but all I cared about was getting caffeine into my body. Once that was accomplished I took myself back to bed. I wasn't sleepy, but I had no energy. I plugged in my phone charger and turned on the white noise app and got back under the covers. 

I hadn't thought I would drift off, but the sound of the front door opening and closing woke me up. I stayed put, feeling cozy, still mentally fogged. Mat. It had to be Mat. I heard his footsteps coming down the hall then my door softly creaking open and a barely-audible whisper.

"Babe?"

"Mm-hm," I mumbled.

Mat came around to the side of the bed I was facing towards, and I heard him set something on the side table then his hand lightly run over my head. "This okay?"

"Mm-hm."

"Looks like you got up for a bit and ate?" I made a sound of assent, and he added, "I brought your mug back with fresh coffee. And I made you a breakfast sandwich."

"S'good."

"Can I uh...snuggle with you a bit?" I grunted in the affirmative, and he took off his boots and set them aside then got onto the bed in front of me and slid up close, petting my head. "You never said anything about getting migraines. Does this happen often?"

"Yeah, but... S'been a while."

"Why are you slurring your words?"

I cracked my eyes open, hearing the naked fear in his voice. He had his glasses off and was staring at me with obvious worry. "Just...really wiped out," I said, making a massive effort to speak more clearly. "Happens every time."

"Okay," he whispered. "God, I thought you'd had a stroke or something." He kissed my forehead and I closed my eyes again. "Scared me to death."

He didn't say anything for a while, surprisingly, but it was a relief to not have to answer. He lightly petted my head then massaged my neck and rubbed my back, and I started drifting off again.

I felt him shift on the bed some time later, or at least I thought it was a bit later, and I woke up with a confused grumble.

"I've got to get back to work," he whispered. "Do you need anything while I'm here?" I grunted in the negative, and he kissed my forehead. "We'll bring dinner over, okay? Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Kay."

"Your breakfast is in the fridge. You just have to heat it up."

"Thank you."

Mat's breath rushed out of him and he put his arm over me and hugged me close. "Everything's going to be all right, babe, I promise."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed my forehead and murmured against it, "I'm sorry too. Our first fight and it turns out like that. We'll get everything worked out. Not tonight, not tomorrow either if you're not feeling up to it, but soon."

I didn't answer, unable to let my mind go there. I didn't want to think about having The Talk. I'd have to be honest, because he'd know if I was hedging or leaving anything out, and I hated the thought of it. Of making myself that vulnerable. Opening myself up to, if not rejection, at least deep disappointment.

Mat cuddled me a bit longer then kissed my head once more and let himself out. I laid there after he left sort of mentally drifting, not terribly sleepy but with no energy at all, physical or mental. After a while I sat up enough to drink more coffee, still hot inside the steel travel mug. Mat was such a good man.

I rearranged the pillows to lay a bit more upright, and picked up my phone, leaving it plugged in, though I turned off the sound app. I had a text from Brian asking if I was feeling any better today, and one from Craig, who had heard from Damien that I had a migraine, and he offered to send the twins over after school to get the mail key to bring me my mail. What a great guy. It took me a while, but I managed to respond to all three of the guys in a semi-coherent manner and tell them the worst was over but I was just completely laid out for the rest of the day.

It wasn't an exaggeration. I stayed in bed for the next several hours, drinking coffee and looking at my phone, with the brightness turned down. Amanda texted me during that time and said that Mat had told her what was going on, and I told her it was just a migraine and I'd probably be fine by tomorrow, not 100% but good enough. She said she really missed me and couldn't wait to come home for winter break, and I said that I missed her even more and that I'd be waiting right there at the gate for her when she got off the plane. She didn't fuss much over me; I'd had these her entire life and she knew that I'd be fine.

I finally got up around noon, hungry and needing to pee with a vengeance. I took all my drinking vessels to the kitchen then heated up the breakfast sandwich Mat had brought me. Like everything he made, it was absolutely delicious...full of egg and cheese and slices of bacon, on a brioche bun. Amazing. I loved him so much. I texted him a picture of the last bite of the sandwich left on the plate and a happy face, and he replied with lots of hearts and smiley faces and said he would see me at 5:00 if that wasn't too early. It wasn't. I wouldn't be particularly thrilling company, but I usually wasn't anyway.

I kept all the blinds and curtains closed and wrapped myself in blankets and settled on the couch with the laptop. I had work that I  _ had  _ to get done, but it wasn't going to happen today. Tomorrow, without fail, no matter how shitty I felt, but not today.

Somehow I managed to keep my mind off yesterday, the mental fog good for that at least. I took it easy, drinking green tea since I was too lazy to make coffee, watching old episodes of  _ Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers _ on the laptop. I didn't think I could take  _ Meat Hell _ today. Too much yelling. Yelling was bad. 

Watching the shows brought back a wave of nostalgia and made me miss Amanda more than I could bear. It just wasn't as much fun watching our old shows without her. I hadn't watched them much since she had gone off to school. They weren't Mat's thing, and I felt he already indulged my poor taste in, well, nearly everything as much as could be expected.

I turned the shows off and opened my photo albums on the cloud, missing Mat. I went to the album of our little vacation together to the Cape, just the two of us, back in September. It was the only one we had taken so far, but it had been so amazing. It was the first time I'd really started to feel that we were a couple, an honest to god couple. The weather had been great, the B&B had been fantastic, the sex had been even more fantastic...neither of us had wanted it to end.

I scrolled through the happy pictures, some of them of us together, some of them a bit inappropriate for public viewing, but so, so many pictures of Mat. I didn't think he realized how many I'd taken. I'd only shared the very best ones online. Not that it was possible to take a bad picture of the man. I didn't think another human being on this earth had as gorgeous a smile as he did.

I suddenly realized that he had never asked me to help him scan and upload his old pictures.

Why hadn't he asked me to? Had he been waiting for me to offer?

I'd ask him once I was functional again. Maybe he'd forgotten, but Mat wasn't the type to forget anything. If he hadn't asked me, there was a reason for it.

Around 4:30 Craig came over with Briar and Hazel, and after sending the girls out to the communal mailbox he took one look at me and said with sympathy, "Bro, you look like shit."

I grunted at him.

He sat down on the couch next to me. "Do you need anything while I'm here?"

"No," I mumbled, and tried to smile at him. "Thank you."

He pulled up the edges of the blanket around me in a motherly fashion. "Mat coming over later to feed you?"

"Yeah. Half an hour. Or so." God, it was hard to form sentences right now.

"Good." He started to rise from the couch.

"My brother showed up."

Craig sat down again, hard, eyes wide. "What?" he whispered in bewilderment.

"Brad. Showed up at the Coffee Spoon. Yesterday morning." I don't know what had prompted me to bring it up, other than that Craig was my best friend, my oldest friend. He knew everything, absolutely everything, about my family. Things that Mat didn't know. That Mat would never know, if I could help it.

He stared at me blankly for a moment then asked, "Why?"

"Dad died. A few weeks ago. Mom wants to see me."

As expected, Craig instantly was furious. "Too fucking late, I'd say."

"Yeah." I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted all over again. "He lied. To my brothers. Didn't even have the balls to tell them he threw me out."

"You told Brad the truth, though, right?"

"Yeah. I think he believed me." I rubbed my eyes then the bridge of my nose. "Mat and I told him to leave. And not come back."

"Think he'll stay away?"

I shrugged and shook my head slightly. "I don't know. I hope so." There really wasn't any reason for any of my brothers to contact me to begin with, other than satisfying our mother's wishes.

Their mother. She was  _ their  _ mother, not mine.

"Well shit," Craig muttered. He sat back against the couch, and when our shoulders touched he turned sideways and put his arms around me, giving me one of those hug-shakes that were meant to be encouraging. "I'm sorry, bro. Is that what triggered the migraine?"

"Maybe. I already had a headache when he showed up."

The twins came back in and dropped off the mail and the key then took off again through the front door.

"Then Mat and I had a fight," I added in a whisper. I really shouldn't bring it up, but if I couldn't talk to Craig, who could I talk to? And I was feeling whacked out, and vulnerable. I wanted to talk, even if talking was a physical effort right now. I'd avoided talking about Mat to anyone but Robert, and even then I had only really done so the once, back in August. I had gone out with Robert, and Robert and Mary, a number of times since then, but I'd been careful not to drink heavily. I was too damn old for the consequences that came the next day.

"About Brad?"

"About me keeping things to myself. Not talking to him."

Craig let go of me to look me in the eye, confused. "But you guys are really tight, bro. You're crazy about each other. It's the cutest thing."

"Yes, but...he knows I'm not talking to him about stuff."

"Like…"

"Like wanting to live together," I mumbled. There. It was out there. I had finally told someone besides my therapist, who had already been pretty clear about what they thought I should do.

Craig stared at me for a few seconds before his expression melted into one of sympathy. "Bro," he murmured. "Just talk to him. Tell him you want to move in all the way."

"It was supposed to happen naturally," I complained.  _ Whined _ . I was whining, and I couldn't stop myself.

"You guys had sex the first night," he reminded me. "You didn't even date, bro. You guys just jumped right in. What're you going to do, back things up and start over?"

"We didn't date?" I whispered, stunned.

"Did you, and I missed it somewhere?"

"But…" I trailed off, bewildered and...not terribly pleased with the realization that Mat and I hadn't really dated. I wasn't even sure why it mattered. Maybe it didn't. I felt so mentally fuzzy right now that putting thoughts together was hard, let alone giving voice to them. I just knew that I was sad that Mat hadn't asked me to live with him yet, with the stress of my family lurking in the background too.

Craig rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Maybe it was just...you guys dated your own way?"

I stared at him, pouting. I was sure I looked like a large, sullen child right now, sitting wrapped in the blanket. A large, sullen, balding, stinky child. I really needed to take a shower, and I didn't have it in me to even get off the couch.

"Come on," Craig sighed, seeing my self-pitying expression. "Just talk to him about it."

"I wanted him to ask me," I said in a miserable tone. "I wanted him to...to want me to live with him."

"But...you kind of already do."

"I'm not there every night. I thought...maybe if I didn't go over every night…" I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat. "He said he didn't want to waste any time. The night we got together. I just… I thought he would've asked by now."

"Maybe he thought you were happy with how things were until now."

"I'm not." I winced. "I am, but…"

"You want more. I get it. I do." Craig sounded so understanding. 

I said in a plaintive tone, "I...just want to have a family again."

He made a sound of sympathy and rubbed my shoulder. "When Smash and I split up, I think I cried the first ten times she had the girls and I was sitting home alone. Maybe more. I  _ hated  _ it. It didn't feel like home with all of them gone. Even though they were around most of the time, it wasn't all the time. It didn't feel like we were a family anymore. I totally get it, bro."

I blinked and focused on the chair across the coffee table, trying very, very hard to not start crying. I probably would have if I wasn't so wiped out and didn't fear getting another headache. Maybe Craig didn't know how it felt to have a spouse die, but I'd heard that divorce could sometimes be nearly as devastating in its own way. It meant so much to me that Craig was being so supportive, just as I'd known he would be. 

"Just talk to him," Craig said one last time, patting my shoulder before standing. "It'll be fine, bro, seriously. Mat's a big softie. I bet he's wanted you there all along and just didn't want to push or whatever." He paused then added, "I've watched you two together. I think maybe you're both too careful with each other. You hate the idea of upsetting each other so much that you don't talk like you should."

I squinted at him for several seconds before saying, "I don't know you. How did you get in my house?"

He burst into laughter. Craig had the best laugh. "I'm just throwing your shit back at you, bro. You were so  _ wiiiiise  _ when we went camping last summer, and here you are afraid to talk to your boyfriend about moving in. You gotta be brave. Jump in feet first, the way we did with the waterfall. Don't make me sic Damien on you, bro."

I grimaced at the thought of that. Damien would be disgusted with me if he knew I was avoiding talking to Mat again. I could just imagine the look he would give me, clear as day. I think scathing was the word for it.

Craig rubbed the top of my head then asked, "Sure you don't need anything?" I grunted in the negative. He looked at the kitchen clock. "Mat'll be here any minute now. You good until then?"

"Yeah." I smiled at him, a weak thing, but a smile all the same. "Thanks, bro."

He grinned. Too damn charming. "What are best bros for?" He let himself out.

God, he was such a great guy. The best. My best bro. I loved him so much.

I heard him calling out to someone as he walked down my driveway. Mat wasn't due for another 10 minutes, but he might have come early. I had mixed feelings about that. I was always eager to see the man I loved, but yesterday's argument still hung there, unresolved, and he was going to feel bad, and I hated when Mat felt bad. But then my deep dislike of making Mat feel bad was part of the reason why I didn't want to talk about our living situation, which had contributed to us getting into an argument yesterday. I wouldn't call it a fight. I refused to. We might have raised our voices a bit but we hadn't yelled at each other. I couldn't even begin to entertain the thought of yelling at Mat.

Semantics. Mat had called it a fight; I couldn't. Mat had implied we were a family; I'd strongly implied we weren't. I didn't know where to go from there without getting into another heated discussion, when we weren't even using the same language.

The front door opened, and Carmensita poked her head in. She saw me on the couch then came in the rest of the way. "Hi Mitchell," she said in a soft voice.

"Hey honey," I murmured, as Mat came in the door behind her. I avoided looking at him as I asked her, "How was school?"

She rolled her eyes as she closed the door for her dad then set her backpack on the floor next to the chair and flopped down in it, scowling. "Same as always. I swear Ms. Adler has it in for me. She always finds something to nitpick."

I gathered the blanket around me more tightly. "Panda had trouble with her too." I could see Mat out of the corner of my eye, setting dinner on the breakfast bar. Christ, I hated this, feeling awkward around him. I dreaded having The Talk, and wondering when he was going to spring it on me. It wouldn't be tonight, but it might be tomorrow, or Saturday. This weekend was the first Saturday in December, and hence it was Open Mic, but we weren't planning to sing together, not with him getting over a cold. I always went, as long as he did, to be supportive of him, and I would this time too, but not knowing when he was going to force matters out into the open was stressful.

He wouldn't wait long, I knew that much. For one churlish minute I considered milking my migraine recovery an extra day. Faking it. That was too close to lying, though, and I would never lie to Mat. I might avoid things, but I wouldn't lie to him.

Carmensita complained, "I wasn't even late to class. I was standing right in the doorway, just… not inside the doorway, but right outside it. I mean, she was looking right at me, but did that count? Noooooo. She marked me down as tardy because I wasn't 'inside the threshold'. Who uses the word threshold anymore? It's like a medieval word or something."

She went on in that vein for quite a while longer, and I did my best to listen to, and understand, what was she was saying. I squinted at her, feeling overwhelmed as I tried to process it all. 

"Right?" she prompted.

"I…" My eyes narrowed further as I tried to figure out what she'd asked me. "Yes? I think?"

Mat said to his daughter, "Don't do that to him, sweetie. He's sick. Come over and help me with this, all right?"

"Okay," she sighed. "Sorry, Mitchell."

I mumbled, "It's all right. I'm just...um, having...trouble...processing right now." As she went to join her dad I sank further into the blanket as I said with regret, "I don't think I'll be able to get you off to school tomorrow, honey. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Can we do waffles Saturday morning?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"I'm spending the night at Daisy's that night." She grinned at me as she set the dishes on the counter. "Brian said we could go out for breakfast Sunday!"

"Oh," I said in a faint tone. "That sounds nice." Ordinarily I'd be thrilled by the idea of Carmensita being out of the house on a weekend night. Not that I didn't love having her around, because I adored her, but because just knowing she was in the house was a bit...limiting. Her dad was a talker in bed, and a little loud at times, and I knew that it was frustrating for him to stifle that when she was home. Which was 99% of the time. But I had the feeling that Mat had asked Brian to take Carmensita that night because he wanted to have our talk, not...the other reason.

Mat interjected, "Maybe we can do that one of these weekends."

"Sure!"

"And I was thinking this Saturday morning after waffles we can go out and get a Christmas tree. Maybe cut our own this year."

"Yay!" She was so adorable. "Whose house are we putting it in? Ooh, I know, we can get two trees!"

I stubbornly kept my eyes away from the kitchen as the silence yawned between us. The fact that Mat didn't answer right away told me everything I needed to know: he knew what my problem was. He knew exactly what it was. What it had been all along.

He finally said in an unsteady tone, "I uh...think our house, since we're there the most and there's more room, but Mitchell can, uh, get a tree too if he wants, but..." He trailed off then coughed into his sleeve.

I shook my head, barely more than a twitch, as my throat closed up. It wasn't as if this issue hadn't occurred to me. This would be the first year that Amanda was going to be away for half the Christmas season. She'd be home for a month, through most of January, but she wasn't coming home until the weekend before Christmas. I didn't want a tree up in my house to remind me that, yes, we did have separate houses and no, my daughter wasn't home.

But I  _ had  _ to get a tree for Amanda. For when she came home. I had to.

And I didn't want to make things any worse with Mat. This wasn't his fault. It absolutely was not. I could hear him fidgeting and the jingle of his keys in his pocket.

I quietly said, "When Amanda comes home, how about if the four of us go out and get another tree? For over here. I don't want her to miss out."

"Sure!" Carmensita said in approval.

I heard Mat say, "Yeah. Yeah, that uh...sounds good."

I hated how uncertain he sounded, knowing I had put the uncertainty there. It made me feel like shit, but I talked myself down off that ledge, something that was getting easier to do over time. Mat and I were in the midst of a misunderstanding, that was all, due to a lack of communication. On my part. Because I was scared that he was going to say that our situation was fine and why mess with a good thing? I was afraid that he didn't want to live with me, or thought it was too soon. I was afraid that he didn't believe in marriage other than as a legal construct, and since we had no children together, and never would, why bother with getting married?

I was worried in general that we didn't want the same things, not in the same way or in the same amount, but...I couldn't really rule it out either. He had brought up yesterday that he'd have me over every night if he could. That kinda-sorta implied that he wanted me there all the time, and in my mind that meant living together. He'd said over and over again when we first got together how he 'could really get used to this' when we woke up together, and I always said 'me too' and then it never went anywhere. What if he had been waiting for me to say 'well why don't we' and the words never came? But how could I just invite myself to live with him? Because it would have to be with him.

And then it brought me full circle to my worries from the start, about what to do with my house, and where Amanda would sleep when she came over, and not wanting her to just be a guest making do in the loft, and just...wanting him to want me enough to ask me to live with him. With Alex, I'd started staying over at his place more because Ashley had been staying over more with Craig then eventually, basically, moved in with him, and three people in a little apartment was too much, especially when I was subjected to listening to them going at it all the time. Alex had wanted a different place anyway, something bigger than his studio, and together we could afford it. It had come up...naturally. After we'd lived together for a year I'd made him a nice dinner one night, and he'd come home to the surprise and joked that he was going to marry me someday, while not really joking at all, and I'd joked back that I'd really love it if he could help me ditch my family name. We'd both known we couldn't get married, legally, but we'd wanted to, and we'd talked about how we would if we could. We'd bought the townhouse once we could afford to, and adopted Amanda, and once it was legal we'd married right away. It had all… flowed, one step after another. Logical. Orderly.

Things with Mat hadn't flowed. And maybe...maybe they couldn't, and maybe it was childish of me to keep expecting them to. It was too damn late for that, not only because we'd been sleeping together for the last four months and had from the start, but because we were both in our forties, and fathers, and owned houses next door to each other. We had two separate lives that we had to figure out how to integrate with each other. We had both been so damn lonely that we'd skipped a lot of steps, so our relationship hadn't flowed from one step to another the way it had with Alex, but maybe...maybe it didn't have to.

"Hey." Mat sat down next to me, a plate in each hand. I looked at him and he seemed hesitant, his smile a bit fragile. "You look so tired," he said in sympathy. "I said your name and you were totally zoned out."

"Yeah," I whispered. "I'm still not all there. Sorry." I took my hands out of the blanket and took the plate. "Thank you."

"You got that?"

"Yeah." I balanced it on my lap then gave him a little smile and leaned over to kiss his cheek, in three different places, making him laugh. "This looks so good." Creamy tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. A true classic, perfect for cold weather. Savory comfort food.

"The crockpot did most of the work." He set his own plate on his lap. Carmensita was at the counter on a stool, eating her dinner and watching a video with her headphones on. He picked up half a sandwich and dunked it in his soup, nodding with his chin towards the laptop on the coffee table. "I hope you weren't trying to work."

"No. I knew better." I leaned forward and woke it up, then set the album to play a slideshow.

Mat's expression lit up with soft delight. "Aw, babe," he said in a touched voice. "Is this a cloud folder? I haven't seen all of these."

"I put the best ones online, but this is the rest."

He watched them go by for a while before he murmured happily, "I didn't realize you'd taken so many." I shrugged. "Man, these are so ni--" A picture appeared of him obviously bare-ass naked in bed, the sheets pulled up  _ juuuust  _ enough, both perfect cheeks exposed, his hair in disarray, looking at his phone. "Uh…" He darted a glance at Carmensita, but her back was to us, her attention absorbed by her video. "Did you uh…" His voice squeaked a bit. "Take a lot of uh… those?"

"A few," I answered, unhelpfully. Another picture went by, shifted slightly but pretty much the same pose. I smiled. Yes, quite nice.

Mat sat there, silent, and when I glanced at him he was blushing, his cheeks darkened and ears red. He whispered to me, "You are  _ so  _ lucky you aren't feeling good, babe."

I chuckled and picked up the mug of soup to sip it.

We watched the slideshow for a few minutes as we ate, Mat gurgling in embarrassment every so often over a picture of himself, though only a few were of him naked. Tastefully nude was the term I preferred. I knew Mat looked at my public photo albums every so often, so he had seen a lot of these already, but none of the slightly risque ones.

When we were nearly done eating I said, "We could go through your old photos and make you an account and upload them, if you want. Like you brought up last summer."

"Yeah," he said with relief. "Yeah, I'd really like that. Sunday, maybe."

I nearly asked why he hadn't gotten my help with it before now, but I couldn't go there, even if I were feeling 100% better. Even if I had the energy and attention span to handle that sort of conversation, I was a coward. It was bad enough that I had a relationship talk coming this weekend without adding more to it.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Mat read on his phone and I watched more old episodes of the haunted trucker show on my laptop. Carmensita came over to see what I was watching and ended up sitting by me, asking about the characters, and the premise, and scoffing over how unrealistic it was, and I explained that was part of the fun. We ended up watching another show together, and while it was a much different experience with her than it was with Amanda, it still made me happy. 

Amanda called partway through the second show and we did a video chat, though I wasn't pleased to be seen looking like something the cat dragged in. Amanda had seen me like this all too many times when a migraine had laid me out, so it wasn't the end of the world, but I didn't like her worrying about me. I didn't think she knew about the previous day's unwelcome visitor. I hoped Mat didn't tell her.

Damien stopped by at 7:30, still in his work clothes, to see how I was feeling. It was so sweet of him to check on me. Once Mat and I sorted out our living arrangement, if we did, I'd have to finally hit him up for some cats. Mary too.

A little before 8:00 Mat sent Carmensita home to get ready for bed, then helped me off the couch. I'd been there most of the day and was stiff and felt like every movement was in slow motion, but I felt better than I had several hours ago.

"You poor thing," Mat said in a compassionate tone as he walked with me back to the bathroom. "Why don't you hop in and I'll get you something clean to wear?"

"You don't have to," I mumbled, shedding the blankets when he tugged on them.

"Yeah, I do, and you know I do." His tone was patient, and loving, but held a hint of exasperation. He took the blankets from me then gently took me by the back of the head and tried to kiss me on the lips, though I tried to avoid it.

I kept my lips mostly closed as I muttered, "I haven't brushed my teeth since yesterday morning. I'm gross."

Mat cooed, "You're perfect." He wouldn't take no for an answer, and I submitted to the smooch, then he let me be.

I closed the door, just in case Carmensita came back, then managed to take a shower and brush my teeth, while feeling like I was moving through syrup. There was some comfort in knowing that this probably wouldn't happen again for a while, but every time it did I worried that it had caused some kind of permanent damage. I knew it probably didn't, but Christ was this  aggravating to deal with.

When I finally came out I found that Mat had not only laid out clean undies and pajamas for me but he had changed the sheets on the bed as well.

"Mat honey," I chided. "Really, you don't… I wish you wouldn't."

"Yeah, I know you do," he said in a kindly implacable tone, "but I'm going to, and I know you would do the same. You've taken care of me every time I've gotten sick, or been tired or stressed out or whatever." He took the towel from me and helped me dry off, smiling at me, his expression tender.

I gave in, knowing he was right. I hadn't fussed over Alex taking care of me, at least not after we'd been living together a few months. But Mat and I weren't living together.

As if my thought had magically summoned the subject, Mat put the towel around my waist and held both ends, trapping me there, and looked me straight in the eye as he murmured, "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" I grumbled and looked away, and he let me, though he didn't let go of the towel. "I'm not calling you out. How many times have I told you that?" I didn't answer. Mat sighed and let me go, handing me the towel then taking me by the shoulders. "I really love you, you know?"

I nodded. "I love you too," I whispered.

"Yeah, but...I mean, do you? Know how much I love you?"

The touch of urgency to his voice made me look at him, and...god, he was just so handsome it was painful. His eyes had an almost pleading look to them, like he was desperate to make me understand just how much he cared for me. Me. I would never understand it, why someone as gorgeous and talented as him had settled for me. I mean, I knew the rational reasons for it, I had that much sense, but it was still so hard to believe, still, after four months together.

"You don't," Mat said, deflating a little, then he gave me a tired smile and kissed me. "I'll make you believe it one of these days, babe. I promise." He kissed me again then let go. "I'll bring you coffee tomorrow. And before you say I don't have to, yeah, I know I don't have to, but I want to, so I'm going to."

"Okay." I knew better than to argue with him when he had that tone in his voice, his  _ I love you but I'm going to do what I want so you probably shouldn't waste your time and energy fighting it _ tone of voice.

He helped me get dressed, though I didn't really need it. It felt nice to be spoiled a little, even if it made me squirm with guilt. There were lots of kisses and touches mixed in, and after that we hugged for a good two or three minutes, without saying much. Mat did love me. Somehow, this amazing man loved me, and I wished I knew how to accept that more gracefully than I had so far.

I let Mat out then closed everything up and went to bed, not sleepy but still feeling drained. I knew I would be much better tomorrow, but god how I did not want to talk tomorrow night. I wanted to believe that Mat and I were on the same page, but if we were, why hadn't he brought up living together before now? Or had he, in his own subtle way, and I'd missed the hints?

I couldn't sleep right away, and instead browsed DadBook for a bit. There were some new pictures of Hugo and Ernest; they had taken Duchess Cordelia to see the pet Santa, and she was wearing felt reindeer antlers. So goddamn cute. Ernest was actually smiling. Joseph had posted the Christiansen family Christmas portrait. I was tempted to be petty and not give the photo a like, since he had never liked a single photo of me and Mat together, but I was better than that, and it was a nice photo, even if it reminded me of the horrid staged holiday photos my mother had always put together. I thought I could see signs that Mary's smile was forced, but I was probably reading way more into it than was really there. Damien had posted a picture of his Christmas tree, with a nice black, purple and silver theme that was totally him. That was an easy like.

I gradually grew sleepy around 10:00 and put on my white noise app and slept, though not well. My sleep cycle was all out of whack from how much time I had spent sleeping since yesterday, and my background worries lurked, keeping me from a solid night's sleep. Still, I slept. I would  just have to deal with The Talk as it came. Trust Mat, and how much he loved me, and hope against all hope that we were on the same page.


	27. Chapter 27

God, was I out of it. It was a big improvement from yesterday, but several times in the last hour I had found myself staring at my monitor and losing track of what I was doing. Mat had brought me coffee about an hour and a half before that, and it was as magnificent as always, true bean juice artistry, but the caffeine was helping only a little. I was tired, and I refused to take a nap. I had to power through today and try to get my sleep schedule back on track tonight.

_If_ the talk with Mat went well. God help me, I was really dreading it. I had thought he was going to save our talk for Saturday night, while Carmensita was at Brian's, but he had hinted this morning that he wanted to get it done tonight.

My phone rang, and to my surprise it was Mat, as if my thoughts had conjured him. We sometimes texted during the day, when we saw or heard or read something funny or interesting, or just to be silly and flirt, but we didn't usually call each other during the day unless it was urgent.

I picked up, and heard Mat's heavy breathing, and I was utterly confused, even after I heard the background sounds that told me he was outside.

"I really need your help, babe," he said in a breathless, distressed voice.

Worried, I answered, "What's wrong?" Because it was very obvious that something was.

"I have to go down to my parents'. Mom fell down the basement stairs this morning. My Aunt Gayle just called and told me."

Oh shit.

He went on in a shaking voice, "I thought it would be Dad, but she had a basket of laundry and stepped wrong and down she went and couldn't catch herself, I mean she's in great shape for her age but their reaction time isn't the same, you know what I mean, and anyway they think she's okay but she broke her left arm and she's all bruised up, sore back and everything so yeah I have to go down there and help Dad and make sure Mom is okay so can you look after Carmen for a few days?"

"Yes, of course, honey, don't worry about it," I said in the most soothing tone possible. Oh man, this was awful. Poor Bev. I had mentioned to Mat during our visit last week that I worried about his dad going down those stairs, but his mom was really spry and her falling had never crossed my mind. Still, anyone could take a wrong step with their arms full and take a fall. "Do you need me to text her at school? Near the end of her day?"

"Could you? She gets off the bus a little after three near the shop, but she can get off at the stop at the end of our street instead. I have you as the second emergency contact for the school, I uh… I don't think I told you that, it hasn't come up before this but I did it early last month you know just in case an emergency came up and well here we are with an emergency…"

I let Mat go on and put him on speaker phone as I rose from my computer and went to put on my shoes and coat, making the appropriately supportive sounds at the right times. I grabbed my wallet and keys and left the house, putting up my hood to keep my head warm.

Wow...Mat had put me down as an emergency contact at Carmensita's school. The _secondary_ emergency contact, at that. That was a slot of high honor, and great responsibility. A...parental slot, or one for a grandparent if one lived close by. I was really touched that he trusted me so much.

Poor Bev though. I cringed to think of taking that kind of fall, at any age. Alex and I had talked about moving to a one-story house well ahead of when we really started getting old, so we'd have time to fix it up the way we wanted and get comfortable by time we retired, for just that reason. In the 20 years I'd lived in the townhouse I'd nearly taken a tumble several times on the two sets of stairs: the one between the ground floor garage and the main living level, and the second set up to the bedrooms. So had Alex, and Amanda. We'd had baby gates across the stairs on both ends to keep her from going up and down them on her own when she was little.

"So anyway when I get home I need to buy a ticket down there," Mat went on. "Just to make sure she's okay and make sure Dad doesn't try to go down the stairs himself. I told him he'd damn well better not but he never listens to me and I really don't need him to fall down too."

He seemed like he had run out of steam for the moment, so as I walked to meet him I interjected, "Have they thought about selling their house and getting one without a basement?"

"I've been pushing them to do that for years, or move up here. Maybe this is what'll finally make them change their mind. I mean, I know they've got friends down there, and my aunts and uncles and cousins and all that, but they're going to need someone to start helping them with stuff and I can't move down there. I can't close up my business or pull Carmen from her school and all her friends, I just can't do that."

"Of course not." I could move if I had to, if I was in that same situation, though I would grieve leaving friends behind, and the town that I'd lived in for the last twenty-odd years, but Mat couldn't do that, not without completely disrupting his and his daughter's life. He could sell the Coffee Spoon, but what would he do down there for a living? And Carmensita would have to start over, in a new school, make all new friends...

The way Mat had been forced to every time his dad was stationed somewhere new.

No, Mat would most certainly never agree to moving. His parents would have to move up here, but they both struck me as a bit stubborn, sweet but stubborn, in much the way their son was. Elderly people disliked giving up any of their independence, for totally understandable reasons. Moving up here would mean that they'd have to move away from the rest of their family and friends as well. I didn't see how they would ever agree to that.

"Are you outside?" he asked in surprise.

"Mmmmaybe," I replied coyly. I was coming around the corner at the end of our street. I could see him in the distance, bundled up against the cold, and oh so handsome. I didn't think my heart would ever stop doing that little flip every time I saw him unexpectedly.

"Mitchell, please tell me you aren't…" He trailed off as he looked up from his phone, and when he saw me his face split into a grin then he laughed. "Oh man, you are so…"

I admitted, "I wasn't getting much work done."

Mat hung up and put his phone in his pocket, then I did the same, and we walked towards each other, smiling, looking like we were in some cheesy romance movie, and it was wonderful beyond words. He laughed again as we met, and he grabbed the sides of my hood and pulled me in for a kiss.

"Aw babe, you came out here just for me," he said in a touched voice.

"You're about the only person who could get me to leave my lair in this weather." I kissed him once more then took his hand and we headed home. "Did you talk to your mom?"

"Yeah, and she sounds okay, but…" Mat made a sound of dread, his happiness evaporating in an instant. "I don't know what to do. She told me to not come down, but she's laid up and Dad can't do much with his back the way it is. Their laundry room is downstairs, well, you saw where it is, and they don't have a garage or anywhere else to put it." He shook his head. "I'm going to have to push them to move. They can't stay there, it isn't safe. They have their house paid off, but it needs some work and I don't know that the value as-is is enough to straight out buy something else, and they aren't going to want a mortgage at their age. I mean, I wouldn't either if I didn't have one. At least up here Mom and Dad would have more options."

"True." I knew that Mat's house wasn't paid off yet, only because he'd said it would be nice if it was when I'd mentioned I'd basically paid cash for my...

My house.

Oh… Oh.

The thought hit me so hard, so suddenly, that I nearly stopped walking. As it was I sort of missed a step, making Mat squeeze my hand and ask if I was all right.

It might work. Could work, if... _if_ Mat's parents agreed to move up here, and _if_ Mat wanted me to live with him. It all hinged on those two things.

I was pretty sure about the second one. I'd given it a lot of thought today, part of the reason I was having trouble focusing beyond the lingering migraine hangover. I was pretty sure that Mat wanted me to live with him, and maybe in hindsight I could see all the little signs that had added up, especially in the last month. I was _fairly_ certain that Mat wanted me to live with him, anyway. Okay, one contingency down.

But the first one...that was the biggie. Mat's parents would be leaving a lot behind to move up to Maple Bay. Warmer weather, extended family, friends, their church, Bev's volunteer activities… That was a _lot_ to leave behind. Up here though they would have their only child and only grandchild close by. They would have a house that suited their needs, though the lack of a proper dining room was a minor problem. We could make space for a small cafe-style table in the living room, though. My house was small, but it was perfect for an older couple, and Mat and Carmensita and I would be right next door whenever they needed help with anything, and beyond that I worked from home and Mat was a ten or fifteen minute walk away. They wouldn't even need to buy the house from me; I'd be more than willing to just charge them a reasonable amount of rent. I wasn't sure they would go that route, since owning their home seemed important to them, but it was an option.

If Mat's parents moved into my house, and either paid me rent or bought the house from me, and I moved in with him, it would help Mat's financial situation a great deal as well. Or...it would if we...well… I'd need to pay him rent in turn, and how would he feel about that? Money was a touchy subject with some people, people who weren't me. I didn't care, but I knew a lot of people did. I'd insist on paying Mat rent, which could get weird, but it was only fair. And maybe we could fix up the loft somehow, for Amanda. Surely Mat would agree to that, even if the house wasn't mine.

That...would feel weird though. Paying my partner rent. Asking to remodel part of his house to accommodate my daughter.

Well, we would figure it out, if it came to that. Jump in feet first, just like Craig had said. Stop being a coward and just put it all out there. So I would, when Mat got back.

When he got home he was able to book a flight for 3:05 that afternoon, just four hours away. I stayed with him while he packed, keeping him calm, reminding him to drive carefully. I told him several times that his mom was probably okay, just a little banged up, and that I agreed that they needed to move, either to a different house down there, or one up here. I reminded him that Pablo was more than capable of closing up this afternoon, and since it was Friday the kid wouldn't have to worry about the next two days, and Mat had already told him to spread the word that open mic night was cancelled. Mat wasn't sure when he'd be back, and had bought a one-way ticket, but neither of us thought the trip would take long, a week at most.

I kept my thoughts about our living situation to myself, but at least now I wasn't filled with dread over discussing it. In fact I felt surprisingly calm, maybe because Mat was frazzled and I had never been able to help responding to that. While he was gone I would put more thought into it and see where it went after he got back.

As we locked up his house and I walked him to his car, he said, "I haven't forgotten about our talk."

"I'd be shocked if you had," I replied. He narrowed his eyes at me as if trying to figure out if I was being a smartass, which...I kind of was. I asked him, "What do you want me to do if Carmen still wants a Christmas tree tomorrow morning?"

"She's going to have to wait. I'm not missing out on that, and I want us to do it together." Mat smiled sweetly at me and added, "Our first Christmas together."

I smiled back. "Yes, it is."

He kissed me and told me he loved me, and I did the same back, reminding him one more time to be careful. I hated the idea of him driving when he was stressed out. Alex hadn't been, and his driving hadn't been any kind of contributor to his death, but I still worried. As I watched him pull out of the driveway I couldn't help wondering if it would be the last time I would see him, and I had to push that thought away for all it was worth. Things had been better the last few months. I wasn't going to let the thought take root and grow. I'd had a hard time when we'd first gotten to Doug and Bev's, and there was that whole thing with my family...well, and the thing with wanting to live together…

_Stop it, Mitchell. You'd damn well better stop it. Mat needs you to be strong right now, and you have to take care of Carmensita for him._

Right. Don't start dwelling on the negative, even if the negative was never far away. I didn't have to let it rule me. It might get away from me now and then, but right now I was okay. Mat was a smart, competent man. He made the drive to Boston and back all the time. Alex had made the same drive every day on his commute without any problems, and it had just been shitty luck and some idiot's worst choice ever that had taken him from me. Nothing would happen to Mat. He would make it to the airport without incident and board the plane and go help his parents for a while then he'd be back home. Everything was fine. It _would_ be fine.

I went back to my house and forced myself to focus on my job. I texted Carmensita at the end of her school day to let her know to come to my house and that her dad had an emergency come up and I'd tell her more when she got here.

She called me, and I could tell from the background sounds that she was on the bus. Wow, that brought back so many memories. I could practically feel the inadequately padded seat and the weird texture of the vinyl right now.

"Hey Mitchell," she said in greeting. I could hear the worry in her voice. "Where's Dad?"

"He had to fly back down to Georgia. I don't want you to worry, but your grandma took a little fall going down the basement stairs. She's okay, but she hurt her arm, and your grandpa can't help her with things with his back and all."

"Oh," she said with a touch of relief. "Okay."

"So it's just you and me for a few days, however long your dad is down there. I know you're going to Daisy's Saturday, and we're going to have to hold off on getting the tree tomorrow morning so your dad doesn't miss it, but maybe think about something special we could do tonight. We could go see a movie or go out for dinner or whatever you want."

"Yay! Yeah, we should go see a movie!"

"It's going to need to be something your dad would be okay with." I heard her grumble. "But we could go have dinner too. Start thinking about what you want to go see." The one movie theater in Maple Bay didn't have a ton of choices, but there should be something she found agreeable that Mat wouldn't disapprove of.

Carmensita said with resentment, "Well, I could look up movies right now, but you see, I've got this _phone_."

"I know, honey." I wanted to tell her that I'd talk to Mat about it, but I didn't want to make things worse by making any promises, and to be honest I already had talked to him about it, once, and he wouldn't budge. It seemed a new phone would make for a really nice Christmas present, but I didn't want to get her hopes up or make her any grumpier with Mat about it. She and her dad were really close, and she was usually a cheerful, super sweet kid, but the issue of the phone was a real bone of contention between the two of them and something she wasn't going to let up on. She was definitely her father's daughter in that once she latched on to an idea she was not going to let it go.

"Couldn't you just...talk to him about it?" she asked in a tone of desperation.

All right then. I supposed it was time to tell her the truth. "I have."

"Man, I knew it," she muttered. "It's so unfair."

"I talked to him about it one time, right before your birthday, and he said your phone was...um, functional."

"Oh my gooooood," she groaned. "No it isn't! It makes phone calls and it texts, and the texting is horrible!"

"I know. I had the same kind of phone--"

"When? When you were...uh...never mind."

"Hm." God, this was like Amanda all over again. It was a tiny bit frustrating, of course, but was also making me feel overwhelming waves of nostalgia. "You know, when I was your age--"

"Mitchell," she sighed.

"If I wanted to talk to my friends..."

"No, don't--"

"I had to milk a squid for ink, write a note on a rolled up piece of parchment with a feather pen, tie it to the leg of a pigeon, and hope it got there, then wait two weeks for a response."

Carmensita giggled loudly. "You are so full of it!"

God, she was adorable. So easily adored. Just like her dad. It was so cute too, hearing her using Mat's speech mannerisms. Such a doll.

When she got...home? To my home. God, Mat and I needed to get this sorted out. When she got to my place I fixed her a snack, the way I always had for Amanda, and got her started on her homework, again, like I had with Amanda. It was...nice. Really nice. Nostalgic. What would Mat have done if I hadn't been around? Left her with Brian, or maybe Craig, I guessed. I knew he would have figured it out. No matter how anxious he got, he always found a way.

We went out to the diner and had a wonderfully greasy, cheesy dinner and took some selfies together to send to Mat, who replied with lots of hearts and heart eyes, then we went to a movie, one that I wasn't keen on seeing but that Carmensita really wanted to, a sacrifice I was more than happy to make. We had a lot of fun together, we honestly did. Good bonding activity. Yes.

Mat called that night and we did a video chat, and seeing his face made me miss him more than ever. He was using his mom's computer, which resided in a corner of the dining room, and I could hear her in the background talking to Mat's dad, complaining in a good-natured manner about being babied.

We chatted a bit longer before Carmensita got bored and went to Amanda's room with her tablet.

Mat quietly asked, "Is she gone?"

"Yeah. She's in Amanda's room with her headphones on."

"Sounds like you two are having a good time."

"Dinner and a movie. It's a classic...uh, daddy's boyfriend and daddy's daughter date." Lame. I really wished words didn't come out of my mouth without me putting more thought into them.

"Right," he said with a chuckle, though I could tell he wasn't altogether amused. "She staying at your place tonight?"

"Yes. I gave her the choice of where she wanted to go and she said here." I sort-of smiled. "Since we had dinner and a movie, she wanted it to feel like a full sleepover."

Mat slowly nodded, biting his bottom lip, then he looked off to the side, where I could hear his parents still talking, Doug in his low rumble. Bev laughed but sounded tired. "She get her homework done?" Mat asked.

"Of course." I was a professional dad. I knew what I was doing. And Mat knew that too, he just wasn't used to having someone else there to handle these things. During the time that we had been together, Carmensita had done what she had always done after school: gotten off the bus at the Coffee Spoon and had her afternoon snack and started her homework there, went to the gym with her dad, then they went home, usually to have dinner with me. This was the first time that I'd actually had to full-on take care of her.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back. Mom got hurt worse than she said. Her forearm's broken in a few places. They're waiting over the weekend for the swelling to go down, then she has to have surgery on Monday."

I sighed, "Oh honey, I'm sorry. I wish I was there." I hated that he had to deal with this on his own. I was there for him, but not _there_ there.

"Yeah, me too, but…" He turned back to the screen and smiled at me, a small hesitant thing. "It helps, knowing you're there with Carmen. It helps a lot. I don't know what I would do if you weren't there."

"You'd figure something out."

"Yeah, but…" Mat's brow crinkled, not really a frown, but a pained expression. "I knew I could count on you, babe. I knew you'd have my back."

I looked at him in confusion. "Of course I do, love. Always."

"And I know that, and...it helps. More than you know."

"I _do_ know."

"I want you to live with me," he blurted.

My eyebrows shot up and my mouth fell open. I could see Mat fidgeting as he stared back, could tell that his leg was jiggling nervously.

He leaned towards the screen and repeated in an urgent tone, "I want you to live with me, Mitchell. Me and Carmen."

"Okay," I whispered. Of course I would. It was all I'd wanted all along, and hadn't had the courage to ask for. But...wow, talk about coming out of left field. Mat had said we would have our talk, but I'd thought it would wait until he got back. That he had all that going on at his parents' house and still had this on his mind meant so much to me.

Mat blew out a shaky breath and gave me a brief, brilliant smile. "Okay. Yeah." He blew out another breath, a shorter one. "Wow."

"Yeah," I croaked. This was just a little overwhelming right now.

"So...this is what you wanted, right? What you kept not talking to me about?"

I nodded, feeling choked up. We were going to live together. _Finally_. It was such an enormous weight off my back. If I'd known the discussion would be this easy I would have brought it up a while ago. But maybe Mat hadn't been ready until recently. Or hadn't wanted to push.

"Oh good. That's...good, I mean, I thought so, but…" Mat laughed a little. "Sometimes it's hard to tell with you, babe."

I tried to joke, "I've been told how inscrutable I am."

Mat laughed louder. "Inscrutable! I don't think I'd go that far."

"Mysterious and unknowable?"

He laughed again then looked sideways at his parents, but the sound of their voices was a bit more distant. "Let's wait to tell Carmen until I get home, but...start thinking about what you want to do."

"I want your parents to move into my house." Mat gaped at me, completely blindsided. He had done it to me, after all, and it was all in a good way. I leaned forward as well and said, "They can buy it, rent it, whatever they want to do, but I don't want strangers living there. I know it's small, and a really big change for them, but...they'd be right there. I mean here. In this house that I'm currently sitting in."

His eyes grew big and glossy as he murmured, "You really want my parents to live there?"

"Yeah, I do. I've been thinking about it all day. I started thinking about it when I was walking you home. If they moved in here, no more basement. The spare room could stay a guest room if they want but there's just enough room for your dad's hobby. They'd get to spend more time with Carmen. And you. Us, I guess. We'd be right next door if they needed anything."

"Babe," he said in a touched voice, his eyes getting shinier as he blinked.

I smiled at him, loving him so much in that moment. Well, I always loved him, but it was especially intense right now.

"I wished we'd talked about this sooner," Mat said with regret. "All this back and forth. I should've known this was what was bugging you all this time."

I mumbled, "It wasn't _all_ the time."

"I wanted you to live with me from the start."

I made some sort of undignified mewling sound at that. "Really?" I whined. Oh my _god_.

"Why do you think I kept saying 'I could really get used to this' and asking you to come over every night at first? Every time you were there it just felt...right, and I hated it every time you left, or I had to leave your place. But I figured you weren't ready. You just moved in back in April, and it's the house you bought with money you made with Alex. I get that." He blew out a little breath. "I didn't ever think you'd want my parents there though, I mean, it never crossed my mind, but… it's _perfect_."

"I think so," I whispered. Man, I was feeling really choked up right now. "I really, really love you, Mat."

He grinned at me with damp eyes. "I love you too, babe. So much. Aw man, this is exciting. When I get home we'll figure it all out, all right? And I'll work on Mom and Dad while I'm here."

"Okay."

We talked a little longer, both of us giddy happy, though we were both also worried about his mom. Surgery was always a scary prospect. The closest I'd ever gotten was having my wisdom teeth pulled, as had Amanda, and when going under sedation there was always the tiniest possibility that you just...never woke up.

_No. Don't think about that_. Bev would be all right. She was in good health and stayed active. Just because she had taken a fall didn't mean she was a frail little old lady. Anyone could have taken that fall. But she and Doug were getting old, like it or not, and Doug was partially disabled. I really hoped that they would agree to moving into my house. We still had a long way to go in getting to know each other, but they had made me welcome in their home and had been kind to me. I wanted to get to know them better. I wanted Mat to not have to worry about them.

And maybe someday I'd be their son-in-law.

Wow. That was a thought. I'd have in-laws. Family.

_If_ Mat wanted to get married.

Oh no. No no no. We weren't going there. _I_ wasn't going there. Not when I was happy and things were moving in the right direction. Mat and I were going to live together, and I'd wanted that from the start. Just the way he apparently had.

It was funny, if terribly sad, how things had gone for us. We'd both wanted the same things, from nearly the start, and we just kept...not connecting. He'd been attracted to me nearly as long as I had been to him, and neither of us had had the courage to let on that we wanted each other. We'd wanted to live together all along, and neither of us had realized the other wanted it too.

That had to stop. I had to stop doing this. I hadn't done it with Alex, not anywhere near this much. Mat had been upset Wednesday about our lack of communication and had said we weren't connecting all the way. Or I wasn't, rather. He hadn't been wrong. I wanted to be with him the way I had been with Alex, even if I would be self-conscious about it at first. If we were going to be living together then I could trust that he wasn't going anywhere. Our argument a couple days ago and our talk tonight had really driven home how serious he was, and how much he loved me. I had to trust him, all the way. No matter how hard it was.

I carried the laptop into Amanda's room so that Mat could say goodnight to his daughter, then he got his parents so they could say hello and goodnight. Bev was clearly banged up, her cheekbone scraped, and I could tell that Carmensita was worried about her grandmother. Seeing it was bringing home to her that Bev really was hurt, and when Bev explained as carefully as she could about the operation Monday I could see Carmen's hands tightening on her tablet. I patted her back then lightly rubbed it, the way I would with Amanda, and I wasn't sure if it helped, but she didn't tense up or anything. She sat between me and Mat sometimes when we were watching a show or movie, or if the three of us were reading, and we hugged fairly often, so I hoped this was okay. If Mat and I married she would be my daughter. Well, step-daughter, but I didn't like the sound of that. There wasn't some other parent she would be spending weekends or whatever with. It would be me and Mat, all the time.

We signed off and I put the laptop to sleep, and Carmensita looked down at her tablet, a slight frown on her sweet little face.

I patted her back one more time as I got up from the bed, the laptop under one arm. "Your grandma is going to be okay, honey," I stated. "It's a pretty simple operation, and it's just on her arm. Not her, um...guts or anything." Idiot. God, what an idiotic thing to say to a kid.

"I know," she mumbled. "It's just…" She nibbled on her bottom lip and looked up at me. "I've never been so far away from Dad before. Not like this."

"Oh," I said in understanding, sinking back down on to the bed next to her. "I didn't think about it like that. It must be weird." Carmensita spent a week with her grandparents every summer; Mat would take her down and spend some time with his parents then leave her there, and her grandparents would put her on a plane back the week after. They'd been doing that the last two years, and she would often spend the night on a weekend with her maternal grandmother, Rosa's mother, but as far as I knew it had never been Mat that had left Carmensita behind to go somewhere. Not like this.

"I mean, you're doing a good job..."

I tried not to smile. This was serious stuff for her. "Thank you. I'm glad you think so. I know it isn't the same as having your dad around, but at least I'm a dad."

She laughed a little. "You're a pretty good dad."

"Thank you," I squeaked. Oh man. This child was going to get me crying if she didn't stop, especially when it was coming right on the heels of my talk with Mat.

Carmensita went on, "I know I'm not Amanda, but…"

"Oh sweetie," I murmured. God, the waterworks were _right_ there. "It isn't up to you to make up for Amanda being gone. I hope you don't think that. You aren't a replacement for Amanda, any more than your dad is for Alex. Whatever time I spend with you and your dad is because of you two. I love spending time with you." She nodded and kept nibbling at her lip, still seeming worried. "Your dad is going to talk to your grandma and grandpa about moving up here, so they can be closer. Like it or not, they're getting older and are going to start needing more help." She nodded again. "Tomorrow morning we can make waffles--"

"They should move into your house."

I froze.

She slowly rubbed her thumbs along the edges of the tablet case, her eyes on it. "If you lived with us, Grandma and Grandpa could live here," she went on.

"Carmen…" I could feel myself starting to sweat a little. _Please tell me she didn't overhear us talking. Please._

She winced a bit. "I heard you and Dad talking."

"Shit," I whispered, then I winced. "Sorry. Bad language."

She looked at me with an anxious expression. "I came in here 'cause I knew you and Dad wanted to talk, and I was going to just watch some videos, I swear, but I was going to ask if we could have ice cream and I took my headphones off and heard Dad ask you to live with us. I'm sorry."

"No, it...it isn't your fault." My house was too small for any kind of discretion, I knew that, but she'd had her headphones on when she had left the room. I'd thought we were safe.

"I could pretend to Dad that I didn't hear anything." I shook my head, and she sighed, "Yeah, not a good idea." She held the tablet to her chest and folded her arms over it. "In the spirit of full disclosure…"

"Is this going to get us in trouble with your dad?" I joked, while not really joking. I honestly did not feel comfortable talking behind Mat's back, even if we weren't, not really.

"Dad asked me Wednesday night how I felt about you living with us. Like all the time." She shrugged. "You're there most of the time anyway. Or we're here. What we've been doing really doesn't make much sense, Mitchell."

I huffed a short laugh. Such a wise little old soul at times. Though maybe she was just repeating what her dad had told her.

She asked, "But what if Grandma and Grandpa don't want to move up here? What are you going to do with your house?"

"Did your dad have any ideas?"

"No, he just asked if it was okay if you lived with us, if you wanted to, and I said sure, that was fine. He said he'd talk to you about it when you were feeling better, but then...Grandma."

I sighed and nodded. "We'll figure it out. My biggest worry is where Amanda would stay when she comes home. Your house has a loft, but it's really not the same as a bedroom."

"You could make it into one." She looked at me with an expression of forbearance. "Dad hasn't changed anything in the house my whole life. It could use some updates."

"Ah." God she was so cute, but I had to treat this discussion with the seriousness it deserved. And I was pretty sure of why Mat hadn't changed much in his house all this time. He'd told me the night we got together about how after Rosa died he'd felt stuck, and I thought that extended to everything in his life, not just his music. "I'll talk to your dad about it, but it's still his house, even after I end up living there." Which… just felt weird. I wouldn't really have a house of my own, after that. Someone would end up renting or buying this one. If the elder Sellas didn't move in, a stranger would, which I didn't like the idea of. Which was also pretty laughable considering I had been a stranger moving into this neighborhood just eight months ago. I had integrated myself pretty well, considering for most of my life I'd felt I didn't really belong anywhere, except with Alex, but…

Would I be a permanent renter in Mat's house?

_Stop it._

We would talk when he got home. We would figure things out. Amanda would be home in a couple weeks and would stay for a month, and I wanted to be here for that. Carmensita wasn't wrong that we'd have to change things around a bit in Mat's house, beyond fixing the loft for Amanda, and better to take the time to do that and not rush things. Change wasn't always easy for Mat, and this was a huge life change. I didn't want to push too hard too fast. I didn't want to push at all.

"If you guys got married, it would be your house too."

My chest clenched a bit at that, and I murmured, "I'd like very much to marry your dad, honey, I really would, but let's just take things one step at a time, okay? And please don't say anything to him about it. I'd never want you to lie to him, but please don't bring it up around him?" The last thing I wanted was for Mat to feel pressured, and if he didn't think marriage was that important I didn't want to leave myself open to that disappointment. I knew myself, though. If I didn't at least broach the subject fairly soon it would eat away at me, and Mat would pick up on that. Better to get it out in the open as soon as possible. Once things were a bit more settled.

"Okay, but...if you guys got married, that would make Amanda my sister, right?"

I smiled at her, touched. "Yes, I believe it would." I waited for her to add that it would also make me her dad, in a way, but the comment never came. That sort of hurt. More than sort of, considering not only the nice afternoon and evening we'd had but the fact that I got her off to school three days a week. But I was the adult here. I couldn't expect her view of things to be the same as mine.

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Sure, honey."

We went out into the garage and I let her choose a flavor from the three available. I knew I shouldn't even keep it in the house, but I was eating fewer goodies with Amanda gone, and I wasn't about to completely give up treats. Mat loved me just the way I was, and clearly wanted me the way I was, and sure I wished I wasn't squishy in the middle, but at least I was in good shape underneath my squishy layers.

We sat at the counter and ate our ice cream and watched some funny pet videos, and Carmensita brought up that I had never gotten any cats, and how once I moved in we should really do that, and I agreed. Mat loved cats too, so I felt pretty safe agreeing to that. She gave me her ideas for the loft, some of which weren't feasible, but some of which were. I told her I probably wouldn't move in all the way until the end of January, once Amanda went back to college, and Carmensita said that was fine. It would have to be fine, but it was nice that she was on board with the timing.

I texted Mat after she was in bed, to let him know the secret was out. He was a little exasperated with his daughter, but maybe also a little relieved too.

It was a good night, overall. I was glad to have that impending relationship talk with Mat out of the way, though I still had some concerns about the details. I had to trust that we would work them out when he got back. He was a reasonable guy; there was no reason we couldn't work them out.

No reason at all. Nope. We were on the same page. Absolutely.

It was hard to fall asleep that night. I veered from pure happiness that Mat wanted me to live with him to worry about what his parents would choose to trying to make myself plan for a future with Mat to worry again about whether Mat would ever want to marry. I couldn't take a 12 year old's offhand statement from August as gospel. Maybe she'd misunderstood him. Maybe he'd only been talking about him and Rosa and a relationship from well over a decade ago. Mat knew how I felt about marriage. I didn't view it as any sort of sacrament but it was important to me, having spent so long unable to marry. I knew you could be fully committed without a piece of paper, and lawyers existed to take care of certain things without it as well. But...it was what I wanted. Again. And I wanted it with Mat.

If Mat didn't see any reason to get married I would respect his wishes. Of course I would. I wouldn't be 100% happy about it, but I wouldn't make things difficult. I wasn't there to make things harder for him. I never wanted that, even if I hadn't always come through in that regard.


	28. Chapter 28

"Thursday?" I said hopefully.

"Yeah, it's looking that way," Mat replied, his relief obvious. "She's up and around today and feeling a lot better. In a lot of pain, though. My aunt Janie is coming over tomorrow morning. Dad's sister. She'll stay a few days, until the weekend, then Mom's younger brother Calvin is coming over from Athens, but he has to work Monday morning. Some of their friends from church have been dropping in, bringing things to stick in the freezer for when I leave. Really nice folks. In the short term they'll have plenty of help." He made a face of apprehension. "Mom isn't in any kind of condition to bring up the living situation, and Dad's been too worried about her to discuss it. I wasn't about to bring it up while she was out of it. I'll try to talking to him tomorrow. Plant the seed."

"All right." I half-smiled at him. "I really miss you."

Mat's expression crinkled into one of sadness. "Aw, I miss you too, babe. I hate being away from you. And Carmen. I'm going to tell my parents tonight that we're moving in together. Or you're moving in with me, I guess." His leg jiggled as his expression turned a bit anxious. "I just want to get all this sorted out, and...it isn't right doing it over the computer."

I nodded and made a sound of agreement. God, I missed him so much it was painful. It felt like our lives were on hold while he was down there, no matter how untrue that really was. He was taking care of his duty to his parents, because he actually had them, and he'd said they were grateful and relieved that he had been there to help out, which was awfully sweet, and I was taking care of things here. Pablo had the coffee shop pretty much under control, though the morning and lunch rushes always left him a bit frazzled, and I tried to be there afterward to help him as much as I could by assisting in cleaning up and restocking; it was kind of fun, in a way, learning about the business, even if I couldn't make espresso to save my life and had zero interest in making a career of any of it, and Mat thought it was cute. Maybe I'd get a Coffee Spoon apron made, once Mat okayed the merchandising. I got Carmensita off to school every morning and greeted her every afternoon, helped her with her homework as needed, made dinner every night and got her to bed at a reasonable hour, and we were getting along great. Well of course we were. She was a sweet, agreeable kid. As long as you didn't bring up her shitty phone.

I really needed to talk to Mat about her phone. It was cruel, what he was doing to the poor child.

Mat had things handled down there, even if it was stressing him out, and I had things handled up here, even if I really missed him and kept obsessing over our living situation. It was nice to have it to look forward to, even if I couldn't quite figure out how it was going to work.

How  _ was  _ it going to work if Mat's parents didn't move into my house? I'd live with him either way, of course I would, but... _ my house _ .

"Mitchell," Mat sighed, turning a knowing look on me. "Don't worry about it sweetheart, all right? We'll work everything out."

"I know. I'm sor…. Er." 

"Could you get Carmen?"

"Sure."

I fetched Mat's daughter and we said our goodnights, then she got herself ready for bed. We had spent the last two nights in Mat's house, so that she could head off to school from her own home, but she came straight to my house after school to have a snack and do her homework, then we headed over to Mat's house once I was done working to make dinner and hang out. It was nice, spending this much time together, and she seemed really comfortable with me, which was great, but it reinforced just how odd the living situation was.

Mat texted me when he landed in Boston on Thursday, and again when he got to his car and started home. I couldn't wait to see him, though in a way I'd been seeing him every night while he was at his parents' house, and I did everything in my power to not think about Alex during the hour that it took Mat to get his luggage and his vehicle and fight rush hour traffic to get home. 

Carmensita and I were just finishing dinner when we heard the sound of Mat's car turning into the driveway, and she screeched and launched herself out of her chair and ran for the door. I followed at a more controlled pace. I was just as eager to see Mat, but dreading things a bit too. He was going to want to have our much-delayed talk, because no matter that we had sorted out the biggest issue, it wasn't the only issue, and we still needed to figure out the details of moving in together. Or me moving in with him, rather. Integrating myself and my things into his house. Into his life, and his daughter's.

I went to the door, which Carmensita had left wide open even though it was down in the 20s outside. I heard Mat's happy cry of greeting and when I reached the front door I saw them hugging, his bag at his feet. God, I was glad that he was home safe. I wondered if there would ever be a day that Mat driving back from Boston wouldn't trouble me. I doubted it.

He looked up and saw me and his grin widened further, if it was possible, then his expression softened. "Hey, babe," he said in a tender voice.

I smiled at him, feeling a bit shy, weirdly enough. When Mat had left we'd still had a very big elephant in the room between us, and our first fight--no, disagreement--just behind us, and the re-emergence of my family. I'd tried very, very hard this last week to not think about that third point. They had all been dead to me most of my adult life, and it was really damn difficult now to keep them that way. I didn't want any more to do with them than I did before, but now I dreaded that one of my brothers was going to show up again and press our mother's case. I really liked not living with dread hanging over me, and I really disliked this, in the background as it was.

Mat took Carmensita's hand and came over, and I took his bag from him as he took the back of my head and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. "Really missed you," he murmured against my lips.

"I missed you too," I whispered.

He let go of me, glancing at his daughter as if he had just remembered she was there. "Let's go inside. Too cold out here."

That was certainly the truth. The sky had that certain look to it, and the air that certain feel and smell, that promised snow. We hadn't had a big snowfall yet this year--

I didn't have a snow shovel.

No, that wasn't a problem. Amongst my neighbors someone was bound to have one, or even a snow blower, if I couldn't get to the store to buy one before the snow hit. Maybe Mat had one. I needed to go to the store before the weekend, since Mat and Carmensita were…

Were they coming over this weekend? Were we going to do our usual thing, or were things different now?

When we got inside and the door closed Mat pulled me into a tight hug. The man gave the best hugs. We squeezed each other until we could hardly breathe, and I felt all my worries fade as the good stuff flowed in. Mat's hugs were as magical as his dimples.

"God it's good to be home," he sighed. "I missed both of you so much."

Carmensita asked, "Did you talk to Grandpa and Grandma? About moving next door?"

"Yeah," he said with another sigh as he let go of me enough to pull her into the hug as well.

I put my arm around her and the three of us held each other as I asked, "Not good?"

"Dad hadn't ruled it out. It's Mom that's digging in. They have a lot of friends and family down there. It's asking a lot of them to move up here, and I get that, but they can't stay in that house. I can't move down there…" He pulled back to look at me and gave me a hesitant smile. "We can't," he amended.

_ All in. You have to go all in, Mitchell _ .

I wished my voice sounded stronger as I said, "You can't close up your business or move Carmen, but...I would go, if you wanted to." I still had the tiniest fear that Mat wasn't as serious about this as I was, despite all evidence to the contrary, and what I was offering was a pretty big deal. It was one thing to agree to live with someone, but to offer to move a thousand miles away from the area you'd in lived your entire life was an even bigger deal.

Mat's eyes grew big as he whispered, "You would do that."

"Of course I would."

The way Mat looked at me just then...I would do anything at all for him. He'd told me early on that no one else had ever looked at him the way I did, but that went both ways. I'd always known that Alex loved me, more than anything, but I'd never believed that he  _ needed  _ me. During that time in my life I hadn't really needed to be needed, though maybe it had been enough that Amanda had needed me, and now that she no longer really did, there was Mat. I loved that he made me feel so needed. I loved that he looked at me that way.

"I don't want to move," Carmensita said in a worried voice, ruining the moment.

Mat squeezed his daughter and me at the same time. "We're not moving, honey, don't worry," he soothed. "I'll keep working on Grandpa and Grandma." He kissed the top of her head. "Is there any dinner left for me? I'm pretty hungry."

There was of course plenty left, since we'd known when he was coming home. Carmensita went back to the table to finish her dinner, and I moved away to fix Mat something when he grabbed my hand and gently pulled me back.

"You know," he murmured, holding my hand to his chest, "I can't wait to get used to coming home to you here."

I chuckled, a little embarrassed. "With dinner on the table?" I joked.

"Nah, that's just a bonus." He smooched me then looked me in the eye. "We'll work everything out, babe. I promise."

Confused, I nodded. "Yes, I know."

"I just don't want you thinking that…" Mat looked uncomfortable. "You know, because you're home. Just because you're home doesn't mean you aren't working. I would never expect...this."

Understanding suddenly hit me. "Oh! Oh no. No, I'd never think that. That you expected that." It was cute that he worried about it, though.

Mat relaxed. "Good. That's good." He smiled at me. "We'll get everything worked out." He kissed me once more then let go of my hand to go fix himself a plate.

_ Ohhh _ . Things were starting to make a different kind of sense. He'd told me nearly every day since last Friday's agreement to live together that we would work things out, or everything would work out...some iteration of that, nearly every day. I'd assumed he was reassuring me, and I still believed that, but now it was pretty apparent that he was reassuring himself as well. Of course he was probably anxious about this. It was a big life change, and he hadn't lived with a partner in a long time. Maybe this was a bigger deal for him than I'd realized.

As it always did, knowing Mat was fretting over something calmed me down. We  _ would  _ work this out. The process might, no, would, be awkward in spots, but we would manage somehow.

I could tell he was happy when he sat down with us to eat his own dinner, looking between me and Carmensita with shining brown eyes. We told him more about yesterday's trivia match, and how she had sat with Daisy and Brian to represent the Sellas while Hugo and I continued to defend Havarti Like It's 1999's honor. We were no longer undefeated, and I was pretty sure Brian had been brushing up on trivia, since he had upped his game recently, but it was all in good fun. We talked in more detail about what had gone on while he was away, and we chatted on speaker phone with Amanda when she called while we were still at the table.

It was so good to have him home.

Home. This was going to be my home.

As always the thought filled me with a touch of loss, no matter how happy I was about it. I wanted to live with Mat, and we had to live here, and to be honest I liked his house just as much as mine, it was just...I hadn't even lived in my house a year yet. I didn't want strangers living in it. I hadn't finished the backyard, though it would be nice to help fix up Mat's. He didn't have any trees in his and it got a lot more sun, so we could put in raised beds and have a vegetable garden. We could do a minor remodel on the loft to make a room for Amanda, that could also be used as a guest room if needed...

The future. I was thinking about the future. Not worrying about it, or thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. Focus on the positive. I had to keep doing that.

We readied for bed, and once Carmensita was safely settled in her room and our own door shut and locked, Mat moved in for a hug, a gentler, slower one this time. We just held each other, and when he didn't say anything I rubbed his back and asked, "Everything okay?" He felt just… tight, a little tense, and he kept taking deeper breaths than normal.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Just glad to be home. Tired. Flying twice in a week's time is just...not for me."

"I can see that." Mat wasn't anxious about flying, but I knew he hated being away from home. Flying twice within a week, let alone heading right back to the place you had left last week, would be stressful for anyone. "You'll have to go through your mail. I didn't toss any of it, the junk mail or anything."

"Yeah, I saw that." He gave me a deep, long squeeze. "Man, you can't imagine how good it was to know you were here taking care of things. It helped so much."

"I'm glad, love," I murmured, turning my head to kiss by his ear.

"I would've been a hundred times as stressed out if I'd been managing this alone."

"Well you're definitely not. Alone, I mean."

"Yeah," he said in a long sigh. "Yeah, I'm not." He squeezed me again. "You would've done all this even if we weren't together, too, wouldn't you." He didn't give me time to answer. "You took care of my daughter, my house, you even helped Pablo at the shop, you offered my parents your house… Man, I just...I love you so much, you know? So much."

God, I was really choked up right now. "I love you too, honey," I whispered. "More than anything." Or anyone, except Amanda, but that went without saying. Mat knew how it was.

He pulled back to look me in the eyes, and stared at me for a moment before leaning in to kiss me, a tender kiss, then a deeper one, and maybe he was tired but he was willing, and so was I, after being apart for a week. Stress always zapped my desire, but I hadn't been stressed out while he was gone other than worrying about his mom and how he was dealing with things, and stress never kept Mat from wanting me, in fact sex seemed to be one of the ways he burned it off. I never minded. I'd never stop being baffled by the fact that he did want me so much, but I was glad of it.

We lay tangled together on the bed afterward, Mat draped over me and kissing my cheek as I rubbed the back of his neck under his hair.

"Sooo good to be home," he sighed. He laid his head on my chest, and rubbed his nose when my chest hair tickled it. "I can't wait to have you here all the time."

I grimaced, wondering how to put this. All in. I had to just forge ahead. "Amanda's coming home in a couple weeks," I said in a tentative tone, "and she'll be home for a month, so...I can, um, be here, until...um. Then. And then when she goes back to school…" Christ. I could feel how still he was. "I...was just...thinking...it's just that I can't stand the thought of her sleeping on the futon couch up there. In the uh, loft. When she has a room and a bed and everything just next door, and...and I want to, um, be with my daughter." Shit, I was starting to tear up and I was certain he could hear it in my voice.

Mat lifted his head to look at me, the lamp on the side table still on. "Oh no," he said in dismay. "Hey, it's okay. I totally get it."

"I'm sorry," I croaked, looking at the ceiling.

"Nono, it's okay babe, really." He rubbed my chest. He clucked his tongue and kissed my cheek, and to my relief didn't turn my head to make me look at him. "I know we have to figure out what to do with your house, in case my parents decide to stay put. We don't have to rush that. You don't have a mortgage to worry about."

"And you do, and if I'm living here I should pay half of everything," I said in a strained voice.

Mat grumbled then muttered, "I don't like the idea of you paying me rent. I really... _ really _ don't like that idea at all."

"I'm not going to be a--"

"Don't say it," he pleaded as he sat up on his elbow. "Whatever you were going to call yourself, just...just don't, okay?" Mat gazed at me with a pained expression. "We'll figure all that out. We don't have to do it tonight."

"I want to figure out the financial stuff before I move in all the way." I knew I sounded a bit obstinate, but I really wanted us to have a full and clear understanding of the financial situation first. It wasn't very romantic, but it would avoid possible problems down the road. We both had a lot at stake, too, financially. His daughter wasn't anywhere near raised, and he still owed money on his house. I had a substantial amount of life insurance money that Alex had left behind, socked away in various investments, and a good amount of money in my own retirement account, and of course the house. Alex and I had never been squeamish about talking out financial issues, but I didn't know if Mat was. I wanted to believe he wouldn't be, owning his own business and all.

"And we can do that,  _ should  _ do that, I agree, just...not now? Please?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"And I'd never make Amanda just a houseguest here. We can do something with the loft for her. I uh...really didn't put as much thought into that as I should have, but we can make a room for her up there. When she comes home we can ask her what she thinks. I know it isn't ideal, as a bedroom. No uh, walls so not much privacy, but we can fix that. We'll figure it out."

"Okay." God there was a lot to figure out. It had been easy, when Alex and I moved in together. We hadn't had much, and we'd been young. This was entirely different. I drew in a breath to apologize for making his first night back go sideways, and he made an  _ uh-uh _ sound and put a finger over my mouth. He knew me so well.

"This weekend?" 

I nodded, and he took his finger away and kissed my cheek then rolled over to grab his boxers to clean us off with, and once that was done I pulled the sheets up while he put away the coconut oil and turned out the light. He had to get up early to go to work tomorrow, but after that it would be the weekend, and we would have to get this figured out. Not every little detail, but the bulk of it. I desperately wanted to live with him, but my daughter had to come first, always, and if Mat's parents weren't moving up here any time soon then I wanted her sleeping in her own room, in her own bed. They obviously wouldn't be moving up here before Amanda arrived anyway.

"Little spoon?"

I couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit at his request, and I scooted up close as he put his back to me. I put my arm over him and snuggled up tight against him in the dark. He smelled so nice, though the shampoo was unfamiliar, his parents' probably. He threaded his fingers through mine then rubbed his thumb along my skin, and I leaned down to kiss his shoulder. "Love you," I murmured.

"I love you too, babe." Mat took in a long breath then let it out slowly through his nose. "It'll be nice to go back to work, but...man am I glad it's Friday tomorrow." I laughed a little, and he cooed, "I wish I could've seen you working at the Coffee Spoon. I bet that was cute."

"It wouldn't have been cute if I'd been actually making the coffees." I paused then added, "I hope it won't cause problems. Legally." I'd been self-employed for so long that I wasn't sure what the rules were for volunteer workers. Pablo was surely covered by worker's compensation insurance, but I wouldn't be. Not that that was the point in any way. I would never turn in a claim against Mat's business even if I had gotten hurt while helping at his shop. Not that I had.

"Nah," he said without concern, then he yawned. "I don't want to think about how stressed out Pablo would've been without you helping him."

"Oh, it was nothing. Just fetched and cleaned. Not a big deal."

"Uh huh." Mat lifted my hand to kiss it. "I still really appreciate it, and Pablo does too."

I chuckled and said, "I have to earn that free coffee I keep getting." I didn't get coffee and breakfast from Mat every day, but just about. 

Mat laughed in response, but the laugh sounded tired. We left the conversation there.

We fell asleep pressed together, Mat in my arms, and as usual when we fell asleep that way we didn't realize it until one of us twitched then we woke up just enough to roll away into our own spots and fall asleep. Perfect. Sweaty, but perfect. Like Mat. Perfect, that was. Not sweaty. Usually.

Mat's alarm went off much too soon, and after he silenced it and checked his phone he rolled over and felt towards me, his hand meeting my back, and I stretched then rolled over to face him. I felt for his face then kissed him.

"I can't believe we're going to have this all the time," he said in a sleepy, happy murmur.

"Mm-hm." I was in full agreement on that. I asked, "So...I never got the chance to ask you… What did your parents say about us moving in together?" Mat had told me he was going to inform them but hadn't elaborated past that.

"Mom thought we already mostly were. I guess I ah...maybe didn't completely explain how things were, and maybe didn't do all that uh, great a job then either, but it did sort of give me the opening to bring up your house being available eventually. I think I got them to at least agree to moving out of their house into something all on one level, but they're both really attached to the house. It was the first house they ever bought together after Dad retired. They'd rented up to that point. But they both fully admit that the stairs are another accident waiting to happen, and Dad's been missing his hobby, and I know they've always wanted to spend more time with Carmen. And me."

"But everyone else that they know down there..."

"I think that bothers them more than anything else." Mat sighed. "I can deal with them at least moving into a house without stairs. The family down there can only help out so much, though. Dad's back is getting pretty bad and Mom's not going to be able to take care of him, and then this happens to her where she can't really help much at all." He blew out a breath through his nose. "I'm going to be worrying about them all the time now, wondering how they're getting by. I didn't all that much before this, but if Mom was the one who got hurt and she's the healthy one, what about Dad?"

I rubbed Mat's back and didn't give him any platitudes. I listened to his concerns about his parents and was quietly supportive, and when he got up I got up with him so that I could spend more time with him, talking softly in the shower together then eating a light breakfast before he walked to work as he always did, no matter the weather. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, just enough to make things picturesque as I watched him walk down our sidewalk, and as always I waited for that little wave back right before he turned the corner and disappeared.

I stood on Mat's front step and looked at my house, sitting dark with the blinds closed. I would go over there to work after I got Carmensita off to school, the way I always did when I spent the night at Mat's, but I had done it for a full week now. I had spent every night since Sunday here, and when the weekend came...what would I do? Our routine, the one that Mat had pointed out was of my own making, was for them to spend the night at my place Fridays and Saturdays. But why bother with that now?

Maybe I should just move most of my things into Mat's house. Stop this ridiculous going back and forth. Stop clinging to my house. That was exactly what I was doing, what I always did: clinged. Clinged to Alex, clinged to my daughter.

And had tried with all my might to not cling to Mat. And Mat knew it.

So we would have our talk this weekend. Maybe I didn't dread it the way I had before he left, but I wasn't looking forward to it either. Mat had been careful of me the last four months, and I had tried to do the same, each of us knowing the other's issues and tiptoeing around them to  an extent that was clearly not healthy, or warranted. Our relationship hadn't been unhealthy either, not at all, but we had treated each other with kid gloves long enough. I was still me, and it was going to be hard to be 100% honest about everything, but Mat wouldn't accept anything less. Nor should he. I just had to be...brave.


	29. Chapter 29

_ Be brave. Feet first. Waterfall. Just like the waterfall. _

My tiny Shoulder Craig was doing his best to cheer me on as we dropped off Carmensita at a newer friend's house for a sleepover. It was just coincidence that she had been invited over the same night that Mat wanted to have our talk, but man did the timing seem to work in Mat's favor. I couldn't really be sorry for that, though. I had the feeling I was going to get emotional, and I didn't want to do that with his daughter around.

I stayed in the car as Mat went up to the door with her to make sure the parents were there, and were going to stay there, since he hadn't met them before. He was such a great dad. I could see all his little tells that he hated having to do it, but he wasn't going to let his anxiety keep him from doing what he knew he had to do. I had always made it a point to take Amanda to any new friends' houses to meet the parents as well, but I didn't have the same issues Mat had. I wasn't anxious or shy, just deeply introverted.

He returned to the car, and as he started it up he said, "Hey, we have a night to ourselves, so… maybe we could go out or something?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Sella?" I asked in a mock-bashful tone.

He laughed, "You know it, Mr. Rivera. Gonna take my good-looking man out on the town."

I giggled. It was gross, and I loved it.

"I was thinking we could go to Jim and Kim's?" he suggested. "Actually have a couple drinks like grownups, maybe split a big order of their loaded pub fries?"

"Yes," I breathed. "God yes." Robert and Mary never wanted to get the pub fries when we went out, and I was always too self-conscious to order them for myself. They came in a mountain. A mountain of fries. A veritable Mt. Everest of fries, covered in melted cheese, bacon and green onions. I planned to summit that mountain tonight, with my trusty partner's assistance.

A date. Mat and I were going on a real, honest-to-god date. After four months together and at the brink of moving in together, we were finally going to go on a date alone together. We could have done this at any point, of course, but he'd always had Carmensita without another parent he could fall back on, and he seemed touchy about looking like he was pawning her off on Brian or Craig.

We drove to the bar, since it was on the way home. Robert and I, or Robert and Mary and I, always walked there, since it was only a 10 or 15 minute walk from our street, and it avoided any possible DUI issues, but this was on our way, and it was really damn cold outside, definitely not the kind of weather for a casual stroll. Mat wasn't a drinker, and when left to my own devices I wasn't either, just...easily led astray by friends with more forceful personalities than mine. I'd been good though on my recent excursions with Robert and Mary. Mary still drank more than I found wise, but Robert and I hadn't gotten more than a little tipsy since this summer, at least when we were out together

I planned on having only a couple drinks tonight, but I would pace myself. I didn't want to get drunk around Mat. I knew what I was like when I drank, and maybe I was what I considered a fun drunk, but I didn't want Mat to see me like that. We were supposed to have a serious talk tonight, and god knew what I would say if I had any kind of buzz going.

Jim and Kim's was busy, seeing as how it was Friday night, but it was also really cold out, the temperature down into the teens, so it didn't take long to get one of the high-backed booths, and the murmur of conversation and music would drown out anything we were saying. We sat side-by-side in the booth, and Mat ordered a seasonal IPA while I got my usual rum and Coke. It felt a little weird, honestly, getting a drink with Mat. We drank beer at home a few times a week, but never liquor. There wasn't even any in either of our houses.

When our drinks arrived we ordered the pub fries, and I took a drink to calm my nerves. I'd need a lot more than this for that to happen, probably enough to get me tipsy. It wasn't that I didn't think Mat and I were on the same page. I totally did. I just worried that I'd start getting emotional or stick my foot in my mouth and ruin everything, well, no, not ruin it but put a damper on it, certainly.

And there was always the chance that Mat and I weren't totally on the same page, especially when it came to marriage. It was slim, but it was there.

Mat leaned in to kiss my cheek. "We should've done this sooner," he stated, in a tone that managed to mix happiness and regret.

I laughed a little and said, "Craig seems to think we never actually, um, dated."

Mat frowned. Oh no. "Really."

"Um…" I cleared my throat and took a drink. Great! I'd already stepped in it! Fantastic! Good work, Mitchell!

"I uh...guess maybe we didn't," he said in a tone of realization. "Do you wish we had?"

"I honestly don't see what difference it would have made." And that was the truth.

"Yeah, maybe it wouldn't have." Mat looked sideways at me and smiled. "And hey, who says we still can't, you know? Like we are now."

"Absolutely," I agreed.

He took a drink of beer then asked, "So when did Craig say that?"

Oh boy. "Last, um, Thursday." Mat grunted, looking at the beer bottle in his hands. I added, "When he came by to check on me. Right before you came for dinner." Mat began turning the beer bottle in a slow circle between his hands on the table. Oh man. "We were, um…" Shit. "Talking. Or he was, mostly. I was kind of, um, out of it. I told him I wasn't…" I coughed into my fist. "Wasn't being...forthright enough? I guess?" My voice squeaked a bit on the last word. "About what I wanted? With our um, living situation?"

"Babe," he sighed. "It's okay. I'm not upset or anything."

"I told him I wanted to live with you and he said I just had to talk to you about it," I said in a rush.

"I get it. He's your best friend."

"And your nextdoor neighbor."

Mat looked at me with a patient expression. "You've known him since you were a kid," he said in understanding. "I get what that means. There's going to be things you two talk about that I'll never be in on. I don't have that kind of history with him. Not even close. And you've got to have someone to talk to about...me, I guess." He smirked a little. "The way I talk to Gabby about you."

I narrowed my eyes at him and said in a tone of mock suspicion, "Ah, I see. The shoe is now on the other foot." I turned my attention back to my drink. Where were the damn fries? If we had food in our mouths we wouldn't have to talk about all this. Well, we'd still have to talk, but we would be incapable of doing so with mouths full of potatoes. I swallowed down a few gulps of rum and Coke, feeling it burn pleasantly on the way down. I was really not enjoying this date so far.

"Hey." Mat leaned against me, rubbing my leg. "It's okay," he murmured. "What have I always said?"

"You're not calling me out," I muttered.

"Yeah. And I love you. I'm not putting you on the spot. I just want you to talk to me. I'm glad you're talking to Craig, but...I'd like it if you didn't have to be so afraid of telling me what you want. You're allowed to want things and say so." 

I nodded and took another deep drink. God, I really wanted those fries. Drinking on an empty stomach was a really bad idea, and maybe I was drinking faster than was wise, but this conversation was really uncomfortable for me no matter how compassionate Mat was being. I still feared hitting a wall with him, where he would dig in and just shake his head and tell me that no, he didn't want the same things as me. Didn't value the same things as me, at least not in the same ways.

Mat asked, "So...is there more than just moving in together? Because we're doing that, and I'm really excited about it and I know you're happy about it too, but you just seem really tense since we started talking, and...you're putting away that drink a lot faster than I'm comfortable with."

The server chose that moment to walk up to our table with the fries. She set them on the table and the platter made a pleasing, hearty thunk. Loaded. God, those fries were loaded. Sort of how I was in the process of getting loaded on this rum and Coke. Neil poured them heavy, that was for sure, and I didn't exactly have a lot of tolerance for alcohol.

Before the server walked away I reached out to pick up a fry, but hot damn they were absolutely blazing. I cooled my fingers on my glass, and figured as long as it was in my hand I probably should guzzle down a bit more.

I heard Mat thank the server, and as she left I heard him sigh.

"You're going to make me drag this out of you piece by piece, aren't you," he said. It wasn't even a question. He sounded tired, not quite annoyed but just...tired. He shifted sideways to look at me, and when I ignored him he put his hand over my glass. "I'm not going to let you get drunk to deal with this. Maybe that's not what you're doing, but I'm just letting you know right now that if you are...I really wish you wouldn't."

"That--" My voice cracked. "That isn't what I'm trying to do. On purpose."

"Okay. That's great. I'm really, really glad to hear that. But would you just tell me what's on your mind? You're sitting on something that's bothering you, and the only reason it could be bothering you is if you think it'll bother me, or I won't want what you want. Something."

I grimaced, my eyes fixed on his hand over the top of my glass. "I uh…" I swallowed. All in. Waterfall. Shoulder Craig. "I just...I've been um...thinking about the future a lot lately…"

"I'm really glad of that, babe. Seriously."

"Yes, but...this is something...it's been...bothering me. Since the start." I saw Mat's hand twitch on the glass. I hastily amended, "Not about you. At all. There's not a thing about you that bothers me. You're perfect. In every way."

"Mitchell," he sighed. He took my left hand off the glass and held it on his thigh. "That's sweet of you to say. We both know it isn't true, but it's sweet."

"It is true," I said in an uneven voice, eyes still on the glass. "You're...handsome, and kind, and gentle, and a great dad, and talented, and smart, and you're just...so much, of everything, and maybe when I look at things in a rational way I understand why you're with me, but I'll never  _ really  _ understand it, and I know it'll pass in time, how I feel about it, and I won't feel so insecure someday, but it's just...really hard for me to ask for anything more than what I have because it feels like I should be glad that I even have this much."

Mat swallowed next to me and I felt his hands tremble and flex on mine. "Mitchell," he whispered in disbelief.

Forge ahead. Keep up the momentum. "So um…" My voice cracked again. "I'm really glad that we're moving in together, and I...I hope that your parents are able to live in my house, because I don't want strangers living in it, and they need the help. And...I thought, if I sold the house that would be best, because...then I'd have all that equity that I could, well,  _ we  _ could…" I leaned my other elbow on the table and put my hand over my eyes. I couldn't say it:  _ We could get married and combine our finances and I could help you pay off your house _ . The words just were not going to come out on their own.

"Yeah?" Mat prompted. His thumbs rubbed against my hand, slow and steady but insistent, and his hands still shook the tiniest bit.

"Our fries are getting cold," I muttered.

"They were delivered about 90 seconds ago."

My foot tapped on the floor and I kept my hand over my eyes. "This is hard."

"I know, but...I'm not going anywhere. Ever." He paused then added with more urgency, "I am  _ never  _ going anywhere, Mitchell. I swear I'm not."

I nodded slowly, my bottom lip between my teeth. God, I wanted those fries. They smelled so good. But I knew I wasn't getting the fries until Mat was satisfied. "So um...about that. About you not going anywhere." I drew in a deep breath. "I trust that. That you aren't going to just leave me or kick me out of your house at some point. But it's...it's  _ your  _ house. The house you and Rosa--"

"It'll be your house too," he corrected. "I told you, you aren't going to be some kind of roommate or rent from me."

Right. Shit. I had no idea how to get past this. "I'm not living there for free," I insisted.

"Okay," Mat said patiently. "So we can work that out some other way. You buy the groceries, maybe?"

Hell no. I grit my teeth and asked, "How much do you have left on your mortgage?"

"I don't know, about $185,000? We didn't have much equity when Rosa died, and her treatments were expensive, and I wasn't about to touch the money we'd saved for the shop. I've been digging myself out ever since, but at least I'm above water. Why?"

I closed my eyes behind my hand. I could feel the other one sweating in Mat's grasp, which was also very sweaty. Our fries. Our beautiful fries. I had to wrap this up. In a high-pitched voice I said in a rush, "Well, okay then, see, if I sold the house I would have all that equity, a lot of equity. Alex and I bought the townhouse twenty years ago and I sold it for quite a bit more than we paid for it, so I was able to pay cash for my house and have a little left over, so if I sold the house…" Oh god. "I um...I appreciate what you're saying, about not wanting me to pay rent and feel like...like a renter, but not paying my fair share would make me feel even worse."

"What, like you're being kept or something?" Mat said in a bewildered voice.

"I wouldn't go that far," I mumbled.

He sighed and said, "If you really feel that strongly about paying rent…"

No, that wasn't what I wanted at all. I felt like this wasn't getting me anywhere at all. I found myself saying, "Sure," in what I knew was a weird voice, and I suddenly felt like crying. I'd screwed this up. This wasn't how I'd wanted the conversation to go. I couldn't say I'd practiced it, but this was definitely not what I wanted.

"You're sure?" Mat said, his tone implying he didn't believe me one bit. 

I didn't answer, my throat thick.

"Mitchell," Mat said in a lowered voice. "If this is what you want, then why do you still have your hand over your eyes? 'Cause you only do that when you're trying to get things out and you're afraid of what's going to happen. I'm sorry but I know you and something about this isn't right, I know it isn't right."

"I don't want to talk about this here," I whispered. "I'm sorry. Can...can we just eat our fries and go home? Please?"

Mat quickly said, "Okay."

"I'm really sorry. I ruined our date." My voice cracked halfway through. Idiot. I couldn't believe what an idiot I was. This had all gone completely sideways.

"No you didn't. At all." He let go of my hand and put his arms around me and kissed my cheek. "It's  _ okay _ ," he said in a soothing voice. "Let's eat our fries while they're still warm, okay? We can't let something this beautiful go to waste. Look how loaded these fries are."

I nodded and took my hand down, sniffing back tears that never quite appeared, and when Mat let go of me I grabbed my half-melted drink and guzzled the rest of it down all at once, hearing him sigh as he let go of me. I was so fucking angry with myself at that moment. Mat took the two little plates and gave us each a heap of fries, and I sullenly ate them in silence. Mat could say all he wanted that I hadn't ruined the date, but I knew I had. I'd known before our conversation ever started that the topic wasn't going to go my way and I was going to get upset. I should've put a stop to it right away. Nipped it in the bud. Asked Mat if it could wait until we got home.

Into the silence that somehow managed to be deafening even in a sports bar, Mat asked in a gentle voice, "Maybe we could go get a Christmas tree Sunday morning? Or tomorrow afternoon if Carmen gets home early enough."

"Yes," I whispered.

"And when Amanda gets home we'll get one for your place too. Got to have at least one Christmas there, right?" I nodded. He drank the last of his beer, and as he set the empty bottle on the edge of the table he said, "I've been thinking...maybe it's finally time to get Carmen a new phone. She was trying to text her cousin Cruze earlier tonight and...I guess she was right about it being horrible. She looked about ready to cry, and I thought I would cry watching her trying to text on that thing. How about we get her one for Christmas?"

I nodded again. "She'd like that."

"Maybe...it could be from both of us?"

"Sure."

"I don't know what kind yet, but maybe you can go with me sometime next week? If she does get a smartphone it's getting locked down. She already spends too much time on that tablet. She doesn't need the distraction at school."

Mat kept talking as we ate the fries, and while my anger at myself subsided somewhat, I still felt miserable. What was worse was that I wanted to wallow in it. I wanted to tell Mat I wasn't feeling well and go home and crawl into bed and feel sorry for myself. Sorrier, anyway. As we sat there eating and trying to make conversation, I desperately tried to get myself in hand. Mat wanted to live with me. Mat loved me. That he was trying so hard to cheer me up meant something. Maybe he just wasn't getting what I was saying. It hurt that what I had been getting at just hadn't seemed to register with him at all, but it wasn't personal on his part. It never was.

We didn't have anything else to drink, though we'd planned to, and it was better that way. Alcohol just amplified whatever mood I was in, and while I almost always was in a good one when I intended to go out, I certainly wasn't tonight. Having another drink would cause the evening to end in tears. Not that it wouldn't anyway. Mat wasn't going to let this go. All he was doing was honoring my wish to not start blubbering in our local bar.

When we got to the car he came around to open the door for me, which was not at all necessary. "Mat," I grumbled.

"I'm opening the door for my guy, what's wrong with that?" he replied. He pulled my knit hat more closely around my head to make sure my ears were covered. He didn't have a hat on, and the occasional snowflake landed prettily on his hair. He gazed into my eyes with an earnest expression, while my own grew pained as I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "I'm sorry our date didn't turn out the way we planned. If we even had a plan. But we'll go home and get everything straightened out. You're making way more out of this than it needs to be." My expression fell further, and he winced and added, "Not that this isn't important. I know it's important, but you don't have to be so scared of how I'm going to react to whatever it is that you've been sitting on."

The snow was starting to fall a little heavier, and I clucked my tongue and took my warm gloved hands out of my pockets and put them over his ears. "You're going to freeze if we don't get going," I muttered.

"Yeah, it's pretty cold out. Hey, maybe we'll have a white Christmas." He kissed me then opened the door to let me into the car, and I went in with only a little grumbling then he shut the door.

Mat started up the car then turned on some music, the radio of all things, which he rarely listened to. He had an eclectic music collection, and while I had to admit that a lot of it didn't do it for me, I didn't dislike any of it either, and some of it was fantastic. I had pretty pedestrian tastes, musically and generally, and was still solidly into indie folk and didn't see that changing any time soon, but luckily Mat liked it as well. 

The radio helped fill the silence, and I stared out the window and pouted during the short ride home. I had completely fucked this up. I had taken a rare child-free night out and completely fucked it up. I hadn't even been able to enjoy the heaping helping of tater bliss that I'd finally gotten my hands on.

No, that was a lie. I had enjoyed it. It had been impossible not to. But I wished I could have enjoyed it more.

God, I was pissed at myself. I was angry and disappointed, in myself and in how the evening had turned out.

I didn't give Mat the chance to open my door and launched myself out of the car the second he turned it off. I got out my keys and went to unlock the house. I fumbled a bit, my hands shaky, and I felt Mat next to me right before he gently took the keys from me and unlocked the door.

"It doesn't have to be this hard," he murmured as he handed them back.

"Of course it does," I said in a tight voice. "It's me. It's what I do."

"You don't have to be so damn hard on yourself. I hate watching you beat yourself up. I always have."

"I fucked up our dinner date," I growled. I rarely used language that strong, but I was really feeling it at that moment.

"No you didn't."

I didn't argue with him. I didn't want to argue with him, even if this wasn't arguing.

When he moved aside I went into the house, kicking off my shoes by the door and setting my keys and wallet on the little table there. Mat closed and locked the door and did the same, then he stood there and fidgeted a bit. I rubbed my eyes and muttered, "I'm sorry. Just...sorry."

"Yeah, you know how I feel about that," he said in a tone of kind warning. "So...how about we start over. Just...uh, get it all out there, once and for all?" I nodded. "We're going to be living together, and that's  _ really  _ great, and I totally get why you want to wait until Amanda goes back to school. The loft isn't a good space for her, as it is. It actually kind of sucks even as a guest room, since it uh, isn't really what I'd consider a room. We could make it one. Fix it up for her. So let's ask her when she gets home what she wants to do with it, and Brian can help us out. Tell us what's feasible or not and what it'll cost."

I nodded, not looking at him. Reasonable. All of that was perfectly reasonable.

Mat went on, "And I guess we have to plan for the possibility that my parents won't agree to move up here. I thought maybe you could rent the house out, but it sounds like you don't want to do that, and you never explained why. You want to sell it and...do what with the money from it? Though I have to warn you, the house was on the market for a while before you bought it. It might not sell any faster now than it did earlier this year."

"I...considered that." I had a fairly good head for financial matters, and I knew Mat did too. We both had to, him with his own business and me with mine, though his was a lot more complex to manage. And why not just rent out the house, since I wasn't going to get what I wanted out of this anyway?

_ Okay, you can stop right there, Mitchell. You don't know that. _

Except Carmensita had said that her parents had only married because of her. Mat and I would obviously not be procreating, so why would he feel any need to marry me?

_ Except that he loves you, and he wants you to be happy, and that would make you happy, and he doesn't have any reason to  _ not  _ want to marry you. _

Mat prompted, "You said at the bar that you could sell the house and...what? You implied you knew what you wanted to do with the money, so did you uh, maybe want to use some of that to fix up a room for Amanda? I know what the house sold for, what you paid for it, and if you got that much back out of it you could put a little bit towards a space for her and put the rest away, for her college or your retirement or--"

I shook my head and turned away, yanking off my coat, my throat closing up as my eyes began to water. My retirement. Not our retirement.  _ Mine _ . Not  _ ours _ .

That was it. That was what every problem I had with all this boiled down to. Mat and I each had our own things, our own houses, our own kids, our own finances, our own futures, marching side by side but not really integrated, not blended, not  _ one _ . Everything Alex and I had had, from nearly day one, had been ours. We'd built a life together, from just about scratch. But this...as much as I Ioved Mat, and as much as I knew he loved me...this didn't feel like ours.

"Come on," Mat pleaded. I hung my coat on the back of a dining table chair then pulled off my hat and scarf and gloves, and he said in a desperate tone, "Then what? What do you want to do with it? Because I am just really at a loss and frankly you're kind of freaking me out a little 'cause I can't imagine what the hell it is that you've been sitting on all this time that you refuse to talk to me about, and you say it isn't me but you won't talk to me about it and you said you wanted to figure out the financial stuff before we moved in together all the way but it's like pulling goddamn teeth trying to get this out of you."

Great. Mat was getting wound up, and that was just great. I had to put a stop to this or we would end up arguing again, and for the same damn reason as before. I threw my things on the table then gripped the back of the seat, keeping my back to him. "What do you want out of this?" I asked in a lowered voice. It was something I'd never really asked him, and maybe I should have from the start, the very start.

"I uh, don't get what you're asking me." He sounded genuinely confused.

"What do you want from us? Our relationship? Ultimately?"

"For us to be together. To live together. And that's exactly what we're going to do, so why..." He trailed off, and I heard him swallow. Maybe. Maybe he was finally getting it. Or starting to.

"Carmen and I...we talk a lot," I said, sounding a little choked up. Because I was. "I get how it was with you and Rosa. She told me how it was, and maybe she's just a kid and viewing things through her own lens and I'm me, I'm always me, and always reading too much into everything, and how it is with you and me, well, I mean, clearly neither of us are about to get pregnant, right?"

"Wh… I don't…um..." I heard him gulp, and the sound of his thumb fiddling with his bracelets.

I forged ahead. Too late to stop the train. I had a one-way ticket on the Mitchell Rivera High-Speed Express to Disaster. "I thought if I sold the house…" Damn this lump in my throat. "I'd thought...well, that hardly matters at this point, but you um, you owe quite a bit still on yours, so if I paid you rent it would help you pay it off faster. I'm, um…" I cleared my throat. "I'm...going to have to insist on that, if I'm going to be staying here. We should just...just split things down the middle. The...the utilities and...and all that." Like roommates. I was going to start bawling, I just knew it. I could heard Mat fidgeting like crazy back there, not saying anything, could hear the stressed sound of his breathing. It was making me feel like shit. I should've just taken things as they were. Been happy with what I had. And I had been, mostly, before my fucking brother came along and threw my emotional equilibrium, such as it was, out of whack.

I continued, "So anyway, regardless of what happens to my house, rent it out or sell it or whatever, that'll free up some...some c-cash flow. We could fix up a space for Amanda for when she's here, something she'll be happy with, I um, I mean she's happy wherever she is, she doesn't have my...problems, thank god. I'll um, talk to Brian about a few minor issues my house has that I need to get fixed that I've been ignoring, ask him what he thinks would make it more um, sellable, if that's a word, or if your parents move in, I wouldn't want them having to deal with those things." Christ, this was going every bit as badly as I'd feared it would. Mat wasn't saying anything, and his silence was really starting to worry me. A lot. It wasn't like Mat to be silent. He was never silent. "Could you um, say something, please?" I whined.

"You've been talking to Carmen," Mat said in a faint voice.

"Y-yes?" I rubbed the back of my neck. Sweaty. Mat still had his coat on and couldn't be in any better shape. "She um...the day after I came back from Chicago. When we were eating pancakes at my house. I wasn't the one who asked, she was the one who asked me if we were going to, well, anyway, she told me how it was with you and Rosa, and...and I respect that. I guess...I guess some things aren't…" Damn it. My throat was so tight I could hardly talk. "For everyone. So...we'll just...work out the details, then. Of what seems fair."

"You know, I uh.... Shit."

"No, it's...it's okay. Maybe I should've just...gotten it out there from the start. Made sure I understood where we...were, um…" I coughed into my fist as I made for the kitchen. Water. I really needed some water. "Headed." I got a glass and filled it out of the dispenser and drank it there. God, this was a disaster. I didn't know where to go from here. I trusted that we would work this out, somehow, but how painful was that going to be? 

It didn't matter. I wasn't going to let this come between us any more than it already had. I wasn't going to pressure Mat into anything he didn't really want. I already felt I had by having this conversation, but we had gotten to this point by my very carefully avoiding bringing up marriage. If I'd asked him up front where he saw this going someday it never would have come to this. I would have pouted a bit on my own and been over it by now.

His voice a bit shaky, Mat asked, "So when you...uh...asked me how much was left on my mortgage...were you...uhhh…you were um, offering...the money from selling your house?"

I rubbed a hand over my head. "It was just a thought," I mumbled. "If we ended up...but, anyway. And...and I guess we still could. Put the money towards that. We could always just...come to an, um...agreement. Legal agreement." The interesting sound Mat made in the back of his throat told me exactly what he thought of that. "Yeah, I um, thought as much, so...we'll just split things. I'll just cut you a check every month for--"

"Like hell you will!" he exclaimed. "Jesus, Mitchell, just turn around and talk to me about this!"

"We are talking, and this is the only way I can do it or I'm going to start crying and make you feel bad, or worse, rather." I rubbed my hands over my face and left them there. "I am... _ so _ fucking sorry about all this, I really am. I just...I've spent most of my life with things a certain way and...and it's stupid of me to assume everyone feels the same way, and there are plenty of people who never… well, who never, and really there's no reason that we'd have to, beyond… the usual, and I can work around that, I totally respect your feelings on the matter, what-uh, ever those might be. I...I really love you and like I said earlier I'm glad for what we have, and what we will have, and we'll just...just sit down and go over the uh...numbers." I let my hands fall and picked up the water glass, my hands shaking so badly I feared I would drop it.

The silence stretched on, awkward, uncomfortable.

Mat finally said, "Yeah, Rosa and I got married because of Carmensita. My kid was right about that."

I nodded. Good to know the source was reliable.

He went on in a sorrowful tone, "But it wasn't because I didn't want to before that. I just...I felt like I didn't have a whole hell of a lot to offer her. As long as we weren't married she wasn't tied down. To me. To the life we had back then. We were poorer than shit, barely more than homeless. I couldn't ask her to marry me when I had so little to give her. And then we slipped up, and...I was scared to death she was going to get an abortion and want out, want to leave, and...I would've done what she wanted. I would've done anything for her, even if that meant letting her go. But she said she wanted to keep it, wanted to settle down somewhere, and…" He let out a tiny, weak laugh. " _ She _ asked me to marry  _ her _ , can you believe that? We were in Seattle, and she wanted to go tell her mom and my parents in person that we were having a baby, so we passed through Vegas on the way and got married. And a few years later she was gone."

Oh...god.

"You've uh…" Mat let out a loud huff of breath, his tone unhappy. "You've got your shit together. I know you don't think you do, but you do. You and Alex worked on things together, and he gets half the credit for where you are now, but I've watched how you do things, and you've got your shit together. You plan things out. You don't have a shred of debt, do you? You don't even have to answer that, I know you don't. You own your house free and clear, you put money away for Amanda's college, you've probably got a tidy retirement plan, you have the discipline to work from home every day. That isn't me. I'm still digging myself out of the hole that Rosa's cancer put us into, and I don't blame myself for that, not at all. But my situation isn't anything like yours financially, and...and maybe I'm doing with you sort of what I did with Rosa, not wanting to tie you to me like that, wanting you to keep your finances separate from mine, but...god knows I don't want it hurting you. I didn't realize it did. I had no idea at all what you'd been thinking about all this time."

I stared at the fridge, and...my mind was a complete blank. I didn't know what to say. 

He went on, "I told Carmen what I did because she asked while you were away with Amanda in August if we were going to get married, and I said it was too soon to be talking about it and that there were things in the way of that anyway, and she said she never wanted to get married, and I was trying to be supportive of her and told her that she didn't have to if she didn't want to, that plenty of people never did, and that her mom and I had loved each other like crazy even without being married, and then she asked why we did then, and I told her it was because of her, to make sure we had security and stability for her, for legal reasons. I didn't have a clue she would ever… How the hell did it ever come up?"

"She asked me if we were getting married," I mumbled. "The morning I made pancakes with her, after I got back from Chicago. I...told her I wanted to someday, and...last week, when you were at your parents' house, she brought it up again. She said that if we got married that this would be my house too, and Amanda would be her sister. I told her that was true and that I...um, would really like that but to not bring it up around you. I told her to never lie to you about it, but just not to bring it up to you. And that was it."

I heard him let out a long breath then a rustling sound as he took off his coat.. I took another drink of water, trying to steady myself. I no longer felt all that worried or upset, just...exhausted and a little sad. I knew this wasn't the conversation Mat had bargained for. Maybe he hadn't had any preconceived notions at all.

And we still hadn't resolved much of anything. Things were clearer, for both of us, but where did we go from here?

Mat came into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge nearby, and after a pause he reached out and rubbed my shoulder, "Hey," he sighed, "you've really been putting yourself through it, haven't you."

"It's my own fault," I whispered, looking into the glass instead of at him.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself. Something more. I'm glad that you do. That you want that with me. And...and I want it too. I meant it when I said I didn't want to waste any time, and I wish we could've figured things out and had you move in sooner, but…" He sucked in his breath through his teeth. "That last step, man. Our financial situations aren't the same."

I twisted the glass in my hands. We were talking. This was good. I wasn't crying, Mat wasn't fretting… We were calm. Having a rational conversation. And he did want to marry me, no matter his reservations. His reservations were in regard to protecting me, protecting my finances, even if I found his worries unfounded. I ventured in a hesitant tone, "Yes, but…" Christ. I didn't want to look like I was pushing. And I wasn't. We had to talk this out.

"Yeah?"

"We would only have one financial situation. There wouldn't be yours and mine. It would be ours." I twisted the glass harder, making it squeak. "It isn't as if I don't understand the financial ramifications. That...that was why I was going to bring up the money I would make if I sold the house. It would be enough to pay off yours and then some. I would have, um, buy-in, and you wouldn't have a mortgage any longer. And--" I cleared my throat. "We could still do that, even if we didn't marry."

"Aw, babe, you are so… Come here." Mat took the glass from me and set it on the counter then pulled me close. I held him tight and he reached up and petted the back of my head. "It isn't just the house. It's credit cards, from when Rosa was sick, and when I first opened the shop, and it's the business too, and it's all in my name. And I know you'll say you can help with that too, but… that's all mine, you know? It's my responsibility. I know marrying me wouldn't make you responsible for any debt that came before. I totally understand that, it's just..."

"Put the Coffee Spoon in an LLC." I had one for my business and had for over a decade.

Mat sighed, "Yeah, I've tossed that around for a long time and just never got around to it. I'll get started on that come Monday, I promise." He grumbled and added, "I don't want you to think I'm bad with money. I'm not."

"I don't think that even a little. I never have," I murmured into his hair. Mat had kept the Coffee Spoon open for years, had kept his house, and that was after Rosa had spent a year battling cancer, and all that entailed. He'd somehow managed to hold everything together through her chemo, through her gradually failing health, through her death, while taking care of their daughter, and even after all that he had still been able to find a way to open their coffee shop,  _ and  _ keep it running since then, all on his own. He'd had help, from both sides of the family, but even with help a cancer diagnosis often spelled financial doom for all too many people.

He stated, "I'm just...I can't stand the thought of you feeling obligated. I know you. The fact that we're just now talking about moving in together and you're already offering to help pay off my house…" I could feel him shake his head. "I've got my pride, maybe too much sometimes--"

"Your dad mentioned that."

Mat let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure he did. I'm sure he told you all kinds of shit about me while you were bonding over his tiny cars." He laughed more freely this time. "You know he uh, he asked me if we were thinking about getting married someday. When I told him a couple days ago that we were moving in together. He said you were the marrying type." I made a sound of embarrassment. Mat laughed again and held me more tightly. "When I danced around it he actually got kind of mad at me. It was pretty cute. I think he wants a son-in-law that makes more sense to him than his son does."

I grunted, touched that Mat's dad wanted us to get married but still unhappy about this conversation. This entire evening, to be honest. I was glad that we'd gotten this mostly ironed out, though. Really glad. There really wasn't anything else that I was sitting on, and the moving in together and wanting to get married someday were two pretty big items that were now out in the open. Mat wanted me to live with him, and we were going to do it, and he wanted to marry me but had financial worries. It helped just knowing that he wanted to get married someday.

"My poor baby," he murmured, turning his head to kiss my cheek. "I can't believe you've been agonizing over this for so long. Thinking I didn't want to live with you. That I'd never want to get married. I do. I told you I didn't want to waste any time, and I don't. I just...I've got to get things in better order, you know?"

"You  _ do  _ have things in order. You can't help things that happened in the past that were beyond your control. It isn't anywhere near as bad as you're making it sound."

"Aw, you're sweet. And I know that. I do. I'm just saying that if you put your own money towards my financial situation that I'd feel...not good."

"And I'd never want that, but…" But how would we ever move forward, then? Wait twenty years for him to pay off his house? I'd wait forever for him to be ready, even if he was never ready at all. But in the end, what was the point of that wait when we could resolve things fairly quickly if he'd let me? It wasn't as if I didn't understand the problems with that. I didn't want it to look like I was trying to swoop in and take over, or that he needed saving. This wasn't about him as much as it looked. I did want to help him, yes, but...

"But what?" I hesitated, and Mat said, "You've got to say what's on your mind, babe. I think we've got all the major stuff out of the way. You can't keep sitting on things. I hate watching you do that to yourself."

"I um…" Mat let go enough to look me in the eyes, and I had to look away from the earnestness in them. "I...I don't…" I grimaced. "I'd never want to pressure you into anything."

He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't feel pressured. I want you to say whatever you've go to say."

Okay, then. "My um, motivation. For wanting to help you pay off your house. It isn't entirely unselfish. I know that sounds bad, but…" I frowned, feeling his thumbs rubbing my shoulders. Warm. Supportive. "From the day Alex and I got an apartment together, it was ours. Everything we did from that point on, it was...ours. The good, the bad, the...everything. It was ours, together. No matter what, I felt like...like...it wasn't his and mine, it was  _ ours _ , and this…" I cleared my throat, the thick feeling coming back. "You have your house, and I have mine. You have your daughter, and I have mine. Even once I move in all the way, it'll still feel like...or maybe it won't and I'm just being melodramatic, but...but if I helped you pay off your house, or at least helped you start paying it down… Like I said, I'd have buy-in. I'd feel like...like I belonged here. Like it was my house too. Like it was...ours. And if we…" Oh god. I was going to start crying. "Married, Carmen would be...sort of mine as well, and your family would be mine." I heard him swallow and his hands tighten on my shoulders. "I'm not saying tomorrow, or that it would have to be soon, I um…" I let out a nervous titter. "Not that I wouldn't be open to that, but like I said I'd never pressure you, so, um…anyway."

Mat didn't answer, and I felt his hands twitching on my shoulders and heard him swallowing, over and over again. I braced myself and looked at him, and…

He was crying. Not full-on crying, not even tears running down his cheeks, but I could see tears hovering  _ right there _ , balanced on his lower lashes, ready to fall any second now. His big dark eyes were glistening and gorgeous, but I hated seeing him cry and knowing I was the reason, unless they were good tears of course, and...maybe they were? I couldn't assume the worst. I was doing better at not always assuming the worst. I'd seen Mat get a little shiny and damp plenty of times, but I had never seen him actually cry other than on the anniversary of Alex's death, when he had sat with me and Amanda while the two of us looked at pictures and videos of Alex and bawled our eyes out.

"You--" Mat's voice broke, and he sucked in a shuddering breath as he stared at me and one tear trembled on his lower lid then started sliding down.

"Oh no," I whispered. I took his face in my hands and wiped off the tear. "I'm sorry, I just...I don't want to be pushy. That's why I never brought it up, the living together or… or getting married, I mean, we haven't been together that long, not that, well, it doesn't matter to me and I know there isn't really a mandatory time limit on these things, but I know it hasn't been all that long and I don't want to look like I'm pressuring you into anything." He swallowed again and shook his head the tiniest bit, blinking. "I'll do whatever you want, Mat, I promise. I'm not trying to take over or patronize you in any way, I'm just...offering to, um, invest? In our future. Since last week I've been trying. To think about the future. Not just the short term, but farther out."

"Good!" he squawked, chin trembling. "That's great!"

I clucked my tongue and kissed him and he threw his arms around me and hugged me tight. We rocked back and forth a little and held each other for a long while, not saying anything. I'd said everything that I felt needed to be said. Put all my cards on the table. It was all out there now, every bit of it, and...I felt okay. I felt pretty good, actually. Relieved. And more than a little embarrassed by what it had taken to get me to this point.

Mat sniffed then said, "One step at a time. Let's just...we've just got to take this one step at a time."

"Whatever you want," I agreed. I'd expected as much. I didn't want him to get overwhelmed, and it seemed that right now he kind of was. Not in a bad way, but this was a lot for him to take in.

"I get what you mean, though, don't think I don't," he said in a choked voice. "Rosa and I, we didn't have much, but what little we had...it was ours, you know?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"We didn't have anything at all when we came here. We didn't have any debt, but we started from nothing. Everything I have, even the debt, we built together. So I...I get what you're saying, and it means so much to me that you want to make it yours too, but… Jesus, maybe I'm as stubborn as my parents," he finished in a tone of muted horror.

I rubbed his back and said in a soothing tone, "No, of course not."  _ Yes, of course you are. And it's adorable _ .

"I've just got to...think this through for a while."

"Of course."

Mat drew in a long, deep breath then blew it out. "Maybe tomorrow morning...maybe we could just sit down over breakfast and coffee and uh, crunch some numbers? I still don't like the idea of you paying me rent, but..."

"We could call it something else. And I wouldn't have to write you a check. I can send you the money online every month and it would go right into your checking account. No problem." I felt a little shudder go through him. 

"Yeah, all right," he muttered. His tone told me just how much he disliked the idea. "But not until you're out of your house and it's taken care of. I'm doing fine as things are."

"All right." I moved back and took his face in my hands again and gave him a firm, long smooch. "I loooove you," I cooed. "Sooo much." Mat laughed and took my hands off, then turned them over and kissed my palms. "How about, since we're child-free, I finally give you one of my famous full-body massages?"

His eyes lit up. "Oh man, you're going to spoil me."

"I absolutely will."

Mat gave me the sweetest look, one that melted me to my bones. He kept hold of one hand and led me to the bedroom, starting some music on the way, and I went along happily. 

I was happy. At that moment I think I was the happiest I had been since Alex died. I felt actual, real  _ hope _ . Not even hope; I had  _ faith _ , faith that everything was going to work out, without any of that faint nagging pessimism that had been in the background the last two years.

I missed Carmensita, but I was also glad for her absence, because her father was just as vocal about getting massages as he was in other regards, and I gave great massages. I would have been perfectly content with the massage and talking and cuddling. I was feeling snuggly and wanted to pamper Mat, but seeing him laid out naked in front of me and moaning and proclaiming how good everything felt...well, it was asking a lot of me to not get a rise out of that.

"You know, I've uh...been thinking," Mat groaned into the pillow. "Since we're getting things out there, you know?"

"Mm-hm." I didn't trust my voice right now. I was massaging his thighs and his perfect backside was  _ right there _ . I leaned over and kissed it, expecting him to laugh into the pillow.

He didn't laugh into the pillow.

Mat mumbled, "Yeah, I was uh...thinking...next time we have the house to ourselves… maybe we could...uh....try something? Something...different?"

My hands paused. "Is this not okay?" I had been certain it was okay. He had been giving off very, very seriously okay vibes from the start of this.

His head popped up. "Oh no! I mean yes!"

I was so confused.

"Yes, it feels great, I mean,  _ really  _ great," he hastily amended. "Like...I don't think you can imagine how great."

"Oh good," I murmured, continuing. My excitement had waned a bit, but that was all right. All the better for me to focus on helping my beloved partner relax.

"It's just...there's this thing. That I uh...that we haven't tried. Together. In, uh...bed."

Oh.

My hands paused on his calves then I continued as I pondered what on earth he was getting at. We had done many things. Our sex life was pretty damn good, and while we were both awkward at times, especially when trying something new, neither of us were shy while we were in the moment, though Mat was a little shier in that regard than I was. More hesitant, maybe, and even that wasn't really the right word for it. I wasn't exactly aggressive in bed, but Mat was the softer, more tender one by far.

"Yes?" I prompted, when it seemed he wasn't about to elaborate.

"It's just that there's this thing that I've never really tried. With, um...another guy," he said, his face still in the pillow. 

What could he possibly--

Oh.  _ OHHH _ .

Oh man. I just...had no idea at all of what to say. I sat there with my hands on his legs, more than a little stunned.

"Baaaabe," he moaned, lifting his head. "Well?"

My voice uneven, I said in a small voice, "I'm not...really--"

"We don't have to!" Mat quickly said. "It was just a thought, I uh, just, uhh...you see, Rosa and I, we had a really great, well, we do too, you and me, I mean I've been like  _ really  _ happy in that regard with you, but what I'm saying is that well you know Rosa and I liked to do certain things once in a while and there was this one thing that she did to me that was good, I mean  _ really  _ good, and maybe I've only ever done that with her but I was thinking I'd love to try that with you sometime, you know when Carmen is out of the house, because I uh well you know how I am, you never say so but we both know, and that isn't exactly the sort of thing I want to do with my daughter in the house you get me so I was thinking maybe one of these days we can give it a try?"

Dry. God, but my throat was dry right now.

"Or not. We uh…" His hands squeezed the sides of the pillow. "Nevermind."

I sighed and gave his leg a rub, one meant to be comforting. "No, it's all right, it's just…" Neither of us had ever really talked about our sex lives with our former partners, other than me mentioning that Alex had been my only and that he had been patient with my sometimes uncooperative libido, and Mat mentioning that he had dated guys off and on before Rosa. "Alex and I didn't really, um, do a lot of...that." I could feel myself flushing nearly down to my toes. "It wasn't something either of us were all that...um, into. Not that we never did, but it was...rare. Once a uh, year, maybe? It was sort of one of those things neither of us were in the mood for very often and all the other things were just...more convenient, I guess?"

Mat put his face back into the pillow and mumbled something unintelligible.

I felt awful. "Mat honey," I said in apology, wiping my hands on a towel and moving up to lay beside him. I petted his loose hair but he refused to take his face out of the pillow. I wondered just how much air he was getting, he had it smooshed in there so hard. The tips of his ears were red. "I'm not saying no," I explained. "I'm not saying no at all. I'm willing to try, I just...am fairly certain that Rosa was probably better at it than I would be."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" he complained into the pillow.

"I'm just saying that I'm not exactly...well-versed...in that...particular...art form." It was fairly certain which way he wanted it to go, too. Neither Alex or I had had a preference; it had just depended on mood. I had to say that Alex had been a lot better at it than me, though.

Mat let out a smothered laugh. "Art form. You are just…"

I kissed the side of his head and said, "It isn't that what you're asking is a big thing, or that I'm against it at all. I'm not. I just want it to be good for you. This isn't a big deal, I'm just...surprised. And I wish you would take your face out of the pillow before you asphyxiate yourself." Mat grumbled and lifted his head, giving me a doleful look. "I would do anything for you," I murmured.

Mat sighed, the pout leaving his expression. "Yeah, I know." He smiled at me, and his voice softened further. "You really would."

"I would," I agreed.

Mat leaned forward and kissed me, and it was nighttime and we were on our own and had just been discussing sex and of course that took things in the expected direction. We took our time, which we didn't usually get to do with his daughter in the house, and I did everything I could to draw it out and make Mat feel as cherished as he was.

He laid there afterward with a sleepy, satisfied smile on his face as I kissed along his hip bone and he rubbed the back of my head. "I think I'm going to marry you someday," he softly said.

I felt my heart clench at that. I squeezed his leg and whispered, "Not if I marry you first."

"Aw babe...come here." He gave me a tug, and I let him pull me up into his arms as he rolled onto his side so that we could face each other. He stroked my face and whispered, "I am so damn crazy about you."

I didn't answer, feeling more than a little choked up. We were going to get  _ married _ . Not anytime soon, but someday. When Mat felt ready. And maybe I needed a bit more time too, to get my head on a little straighter, to get the situation with the houses figured out. To get everything figured out, Amanda's living space and my lingering background worry that I was going to have to finally deal with my family popping up again after nearly 30 years...everything. I wanted married life with Mat to get off to a healthy start. We had time.

Surely we had time.

_ Stop it stop it stop it stop it. _

We would have time. I knew we would. Fate wouldn't be that cruel to me again.

We debated getting up to have a beer and talk, but we were both too lazy for that, but I had enough energy in me to finish Mat's massage, something that had us both just about snoring by the end of it. A perfect way to wind down an eventful evening.

I awoke the next morning to the faint sound of a piano. I didn't think I had ever heard Mat playing it this early, and it was clearly him, the sound starting and stopping then starting again, just on the edge of hearing. Was he...writing? Writing a song?

I stayed in bed a bit longer, trying to listen to him, but he must have had the volume on the keyboards turned way down. I needed to pee, badly, but I didn't want to interrupt the creative process. I knew how fickle muses could be. I was still waiting for the return of mine.

My old man bladder forced me out of bed after a few minutes, and I pulled on pajamas and slippers and opened the bedroom door loudly enough that he knew I was coming out.

"Hey babe."

"Morning," I called back. I could smell coffee. All morning. We had the entire morning to ourselves. I relieved myself then went down the short hall, glancing in Carmensita's room on the way. It felt odd here without her, and I missed her, but it was going to be blissful having the house to ourselves most of the day. Maybe we could finally get those pictures scanned that he mentioned so long ago, but maybe he wanted to wait for Carmensita to get back for that.

Mat was sitting at the keyboards, still playing, when I came out, though he'd turned up the volume a bit. He gave me a brilliant smile as he continued playing, and I went over to him and leaned down to kiss his temple. I saw sheets of paper turned over, face down, and a pencil, and I pretended I didn't see them.

He slid over a bit to make room, asking, "Want me to play a little Meatloaf for you?" I burst into laughter, and he chuckled and played on, something pretty and sort of classical. He turned his eyes on the keys and quietly asked, "Do you ever want to take it up again? Playing?"

Wow. Unexpected question. Totally unexpected. "Not really," I said with all honesty. "I don't hate the idea of it, it just...sounds like work at this point. And I was never as good as you are. I was decent, well...no, I was pretty good, but I never had…" I searched for the words. "It never just flowed out of me. The ska band was mostly to please my friends and piss off my parents, not the result of some strong creative musical drive or anything."

"Got it." He sounded a little disappointed but didn't press the issue. "I think I'm going to finally break down and start teaching Carmen how to play the drums," he stated with obvious dread. "I keep my old kit stored in the garage, so we can set it up out there. I'm hoping it won't be too loud."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." I knew he kept all his gear out there, and the garage was heated and dehumidified to protect everything. I had rarely gone into Mat's garage, other than to get something out of the spare fridge, but it was comfortable out there, though kept a little cooler than the house.

We made breakfast together, and as we did I wondered if I should try to take up the piano again. I hadn't quit playing for any particular reason, just...one of those things that had fallen by the wayside when Alex had come along.

Maybe...maybe I could start playing again, just to surprise Mat. I had plenty of time alone during the day to do so, and I really would once I moved in and had access to the keyboards every day. Not that I didn't have access now.

Maybe I could even surprise him on an open mic night. I could just imagine how he would react if I put myself on the playlist. Maybe with a stage name so he didn't know who it was ahead of time. Yeah.

Yeah. I was going to do it. Pablo would help with the subterfuge. But in the meantime I could practice in secret. Find some easy kids' sheet music online. Maybe even call up Mat's mom and ask her if she had any suggestions on how to start playing again. She would be delighted, I was sure, and as a music teacher she would be the best person I could think of to guide me, and it would be a good way to bond further with someone who was going to be my mother-in-law someday.

Wow. That was a thought.

All right then, I would start Monday. Just a little bit at a time. I doubted I would be ready by January's open mic night, but February's might be far enough away that I could play something easy and not shame myself. Close to Mat's birthday, too. Maybe. If not, March.

This was kind of exciting. Another thing to look forward to. Not as great as moving in with Mat and getting married someday, but pretty great.

"Hey, look at those bright eyes," Mat said with a grin. "What are you thinking about?"

"You." He chuckled, stirring the scrambled eggs, and I moved up behind him and wrapped my arms around him, giving him a squeeze as I kissed his cheek half a dozen times, making the chuckle turn into a giggle. 

I loved this man so much. He had turned my life around in so many ways, wonderful ways. I could never repay him for that, but I was sure as hell going to try. I'd spend the rest of our lives trying.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk about past family issues, past parental homophobia and past body image issues.

Mat chuckled as the music in the car shuffled to something from Bunny & The Echomen. "Classic," he said with a grin. "Haven't heard this in at least 20 years."

I smiled and we continued on our way home from the store. It was a Friday night in mid-January, close to the time Amanda would be heading back to school. I was going to miss her so damn much.

It had been great, spending this time with her, but it had felt weird sleeping apart from Mat most of the time. It was a disconcerting feeling, enjoying being with my daughter but also looking forward to the time that she went back to school so that Mat and I could move in together most of the way. There was still the issue of my house, and Mat's parents not wanting to move up here. I could tell Amanda wasn't totally thrilled with the idea of the loft, either. Not totally against it, but not all that pleased either. I really didn't know what to do about that. She was really happy for me and Mat, and she'd hinted that she didn't want me to put my life on hold because of her, but the loft just wasn't meant to be used as a bedroom, and I didn't know how we were going to get past that. Brian was coming over tomorrow to take a look at the situation with all four of us and see what our options were, so I hoped that he could come up with something Amanda could live with.

Mat's phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his coat pocket. I saw him fidget, his fingers twitching on the phone as his leg began to jiggle.

"What?" I asked with worry.

"Carmen says there's a uh, guy at the house," he said in a weird voice. "Your house. Talking to Amanda at the door."

"Who?" Mat was starting to worry me out a bit. A guy at the house wasn't ordinarily a big deal. Could be a salesperson ignoring my No Soliciting sign, or a religious person going door-to-door, which reminded me that I really needed to get a No Proselytizing sign as well. We lived on a cul-de-sac in a very safe neighborhood, all our neighbors just a shriek away. The girls were at home setting everything up to watch a movie while the dads picked up the weekend's groceries, and Amanda was capably in charge.

"It's...uh…" He winced. "It looks like it's Bradley."

I growled as my hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Whoa!" Mat cried in panic, gripping my leg. "Slow down!"

I got myself in hand and eased off the gas, sweating all over and furious. "Fucking Brad," I hissed. How _dare_ he show up at _my_ house, and talk to _my_ daughter. He was intruding again, this time on my family. _My_ family, my real family, not the people he belonged to.

"Mitchell, just calm down, all right?" Mat said in a worried voice.

"I told him to leave me the fuck alone!"

"I know, but...Jesus, don't get us in a wreck over it." I took a deep breath, and he rubbed my leg and said, "He must have a reason for showing up now."

I sneered, "Oh I'm sure he does."

"Babe…" Mat hesitated. "Sweetheart...have you considered--"

"Mat, please," I said through gritted teeth.

"He isn't your parents," Mat insisted.

"He's acting as a proxy for my mother. I know damn well he is. He did last month, and he's doing it again now, I know he is. He has no other reason to come around."

"You know, it's always possible that he's been thinking about what you said last time. You can't assume the worst. I mean...you could, and I wouldn't blame you. Even if your brothers really did believe what your father said, they took the easy way out. He was upset when you told him what really happened, I know he was, but still, they took the easy way out by not checking up on you to make sure you were okay. All three of them have to take ownership of that, especially Michael."

My hands squeezed the wheel again. "You looked them up, didn't you," I accused.

"You never told me I couldn't," he replied. He didn't sound defensive, but he was definitely wary. Of me. And what he was saying was absolutely true. He let go of my leg to turn off the music and text his daughter back.

I said in an offended tone, "I would never tell you that you couldn't do something."

"Well that's...that's good, babe." Mat finished the text then turned his attention back to me. "I know you're mad and feeling threatened, but...I really, really don't want a repeat of last time. I don't want this to turn into a fight because...well I just really don't, okay? Please."

"Okay," I choked out. I knew what he had been about to say: I was mad and Mat was handy. I hadn't been the one to start the argument the last time, but I didn't have a migraine right now debilitating me. I was just purely angry. I could see Mat's little tells and he was anxious right now, anxious because of me and my mood. I rarely got truly angry, and only got this angry because of my family, and I was sure it was unsettling to him.

We said nothing further the rest of the way home, and when I turned into our street I saw the black Mercedes on the straight part of the street on Hugo's side, before it rounded out into the cul-de-sac. No one was in the car and my front door was closed, which could only mean one thing: he was inside my house. With my daughter. _Daughters_ , plural. Telling them god knew what. Carmensita knew just as little about my family as Amanda did, and now my next oldest brother was inside the house with them, talking to them.

"Mitchell," Mat said in quiet dismay, "you have _got_ to get a hold of yourself. You look like you're about to tear the steering wheel off the car."

I loosened my grip as I carefully guided the car down our street and into my driveway. It was actually a little bit terrifying how thoroughly pissed off I was at that moment. I didn't completely trust what I would do or say when I walked into my house and saw my brother standing in it. Or sitting in it.

God help him if he was _sitting_ in my house. On my furniture. Like a guest.

"Mitchell," Mat whispered as I put the car into park and turned it off then stared at the garage door.

"He's invaded my sanctuary," I said in a lowered, rough voice. "He's in my _house_ , Mat. With our daughters. _Talking_ to them."

Mat insisted, "You can't make him the scapegoat for what your parents did. He's, what, not even two years older than you? He was off at college when your parents turned on you. Greg too. Michael doesn't get a pass. None of them really do, but of the three of them he really doesn't get one."

"Mike never gave a shit about me. I was a pest."

Mat leaned towards me, his hand on my leg. "Be mad at them for not looking for you, but you can't dump all your anger at your parents on your brothers. You want to get that out, then… then maybe you should go see your mother and let her have it, no matter how old and sick she is, but you can't put all that on Brad. He came here for a reason, just like before. That he's back at all after the reception he got--" I sucked in an angry breath and Mat gently squeezed my leg. "Which was warranted, okay? He blindsided you, in public, and you were getting sick. I was pissed too if you'll remember. I'm on your side in this, sweetheart," he said, his tone touched with pleading. "I'm just saying, maybe hear him out and not make him the easy target in all this."

I slowly nodded, taking several deep breaths to get hold of myself. Of course Mat was right. Brad was here for a reason, and maybe he was only following our mother's wishes, but why wouldn't he? She had been there for him and the other two all along, them and their children. They might even have grandchildren of their own by now. I wondered what this last Christmas had been like for them, the Coleman clan all gathered around eating dinner off fine china and drinking expensive wine, opening expensive presents together, talking about their recently-deceased patriarch and Brad's encounter with the long-estranged black sheep of the family.

"I love you," Mat reminded me. "I've got your back, babe, you know I do."

I whispered, "I love you too."

"He starts flipping you shit and he's out. But I don't think he's going to do that."

The front door opened, and my daughter was standing there. She had her arms folded tightly across her chest, looking defensive, looking worried. What had Brad said to get her to let him in? I was suddenly certain that she wasn't worried about this stranger that had shown up on our doorstep so much as she was worried about how I was going to react. What I was going to do. She knew my family was a sore subject with me, the sorest of subjects, and she had still let him into the house, knowing it would be against my wishes. Because it was freezing out, and she was kind, because Alex and I had raised her to be.

I forced myself out of the car and she came out to me, saying in an urgent tone, "Daddy, I'm sorry, but...I couldn't just...he said he would wait in his car but..."

"It's okay, honey." My voice was gravelly, unpleasant, not a tone she was used to hearing.

"He has boxes. For you."

I nodded and went to the trunk to pop it, and she followed. The three of us unloaded the groceries, and I could see meaningful glances passing between my partner and my daughter. I ignored them. I was glad Mat and Amanda had a good enough relationship that they felt they could do that. Tag team me.

_No. They aren't doing that. They're worried about you, that's all. They love you and support you, and that doesn't mean always agreeing with you._

The voice of reason prevailed, for now. I'd talked to my therapist a few weeks ago about the confrontation with Brad, and they hadn't passed any judgment on my family. That wasn't what they were there for. They'd helped me process how I felt about it, and how to deal with those feelings, and I focused on that. I was an adult. I was in charge of how I reacted, and I couldn't just react. I could feel however I wanted but I didn't have to let those feelings rule me.

A knot of dread formed in my gut as we went to the front door, and once inside I ignored the figure rising from the chair in my living room as I went to the kitchen to put the grocery bags on the counter.

"I ah..."

I continued to ignore Brad as I took off my coat. I heard Mat quietly ask the girls to put the groceries away.

"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced," he went on.

I grunted and hung my coat in the coat closet by the door. I wondered what he thought of my tiny little house. Maybe he charitably found it quaint. My entire house would have fit inside my parents' master suite.

He added in a nervous voice, "Though I suppose announcing myself would have been...slightly impossible. I offered to wait in the car. I don't mean to impose."

I carefully closed the door. Careful. I turned and looked at him, and it was like a punch in the gut, seeing how familiar he was, and yet not. I only vaguely remembered what he had looked like the last time I saw him, when he was not quite 20, home for Easter weekend just a couple months before I was kicked out. A mane of rich brown hair, sparkling pale blue eyes, athletic, and of course on top of all that he had been a straight-A student as well. Brad had always been the most handsome out of the four of us, the most blessed, and he had always known it, too. And why shouldn't he? He was really damn handsome even now at, what, forty-nine? Silver fox, and wouldn't you know that he wasn't even going bald like I was, his hair pure white, whiter than mine, but thick and wavy. He was still slim, put together, perfectly groomed. Everything a Coleman should be.

Brad swallowed, looking pained, then his eyes darted to the kitchen. "It was...considerate," he stated, "of Amanda to let me in. I appreciate it."

"Yes. Her dad and I raised her to be," I muttered. "Why are you here?"

"Right." He gestured at several bankers boxes next to the chair. "I...have some things for you. You can do what you want with them, but...Mom told me to get rid of them. I…" He winced and rotated his shoulders a bit. "I passed on your message to her. Paraphrased it, rather. Told her I wanted the truth." He frowned and looked in the kitchen again.

Mat came out of there, saying, "As long as you watch your language, you can say what you have to say."

Brad nodded. "Oh." He took a few steps towards Mat, his hand outstretched. "Brad Coleman. I'm sorry we couldn't have met under better circumstances."

I made a hissing, gurgling grumble under my breath.

"Mat Sella," Mat replied, shaking my brother's hand. When he let go he moved over to me to rub my shoulder and asked Brad, "Did you uh...want a beer or something?"

"No. I don't drink. But thank you." Brad looked at the girls again, then at me. "Mitch…" He quickly corrected himself when I scowled. "Mitchell. Sorry. I'm...sorry. For...well."

Mat asked in a skeptical tone, "So what did she say? When you told her what Mitchell said."

Brad let out a short, uneasy laugh, his eyes darting between us. "She said it was a lie. Said a decent mother would never do that to her child." I made a scoffing sound. "She started getting agitated, wouldn't look me in the eyes, so...it was fairly obvious she wasn't telling the truth. I didn't push, she ah...started having heart palpitations." He rubbed along his jaw. "I told Greg and Mike first, in private. Greg, he um, got up and left. Got in his car and drove off. He was furious. He and Dad had a falling out and stopped talking about...eight, nine years ago? Over his daughter Missy. She divorced her husband and moved to Washington state with her girlfriend, and when Dad made an issue of it Greg told him to go to, um, you know. Married now. Dad and Greg never really got along, well, no one gets along with Dad. He's an…" His darted to the girls. "You know what he is. Was. We all do, we just didn't realize how much so."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Didn't you?" I retorted. "Did you honestly believe what he told you?"

"Yes, I did," Brad said, sounding regretful. "I thought maybe you two got in a fight, the way you and Dad would go round and round, and that you got fed up and left. It was naive of me, stupid maybe, maybe all three of us were, and we own that. Mike and Greg believe you. I believe you. We can't fix what's already happened. We can't make up for that, or make Mom admit what she did."

"You know what she did? She gave me a wad of money a week before I graduated," I stated bitterly. "As a 'graduation present' that miraculously no one else was there to witness and that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about. $300. She told me to keep it safe and save it, because I just never knew when I was going to _really_ need it. As if I didn't know why. The day after I had my diploma in hand Dad went on a homophobic, bible thumping tirade that sounded like he was reading from a script, and Mom just stood there crying and clutching her pearls, her actual goddamn pearls, and said not one word. Not even goodbye." I left it at that. I wasn't going to subject the girls to any more than that. They just didn't need to know, and I didn't feel like telling Brad, how I'd spent that summer. He looked like he was about to start bawling, his eyes shiny and wet, his jaw clenched. I narrowed my eyes at him and asked, "So what did Mike do?"

"He started crying." When I frowned, Brad put his hands in the pockets of his coat. "He's a pediatrician. I...guess there's no reason you would know that, and maybe it isn't relevant. And of course Dad never approved of that either. Said it was a uh…" He cleared his throat. "Woman doctor's job. His wife is one too. Specializes in adolescent medicine. He…" Brad paused, taking several deep breaths as he looked out the front window. "He said he thought about looking for you, right after, but could never…" He grimaced. "Find the time. He was in the middle of his residency and constantly exhausted. I'm not...not making excuses for any of us. I'm not. By time he and Megan were in practice and settled, you were already out of college and living with Alex." I must have looked appalled, because he quickly said, "I know, that was years later, but he did look, or… hired someone to look, and you seemed like you were doing okay, and you never tried to contact any of us, so we figured… Maybe it was wrong, and I get why you never did--"

"You wouldn't have helped me," I said in a choked voice. "None of you would have. No one ever did." Brad's expression fell further, and I pointed at the door. "Please leave."

Mat finally spoke up, saying, "Mitchell, babe, he's trying."

"It's too fucking late!" I cried, shrugging off his hand on my shoulder. "What am I supposed to do, just let bygones be bygones and go to all the emotional labor of working through all this? I shouldn't have to go through this shit! I doesn't even matter at this point that they're sorry, I'm not putting myself through that. They could have come to me at any point if they actually cared or were worried about me, but they didn't. Even if they thought they were respecting my wishes, they didn't care enough to check." I turned a wild-eyed glare on Brad, who stood there looking crestfallen but not surprised. And I felt bad for him. And it pissed me off. "I _can't do_ this," I stressed, my voice breaking. "I'm just now getting myself back together after Alex dying, and now this? I can't do it. I can't."

Brad whispered, "Okay. I… Okay."

"I'm sorry you're losing your mother, but she was never mine, by her choice. I don't know if it was money or what, but something made her choose Dad's wishes over my emotional welfare, and eventually over my safety, and I'm going to struggle the rest of my life with what they did to me. I don't want to know when she dies. I don't care. I'm not being melodramatic about it, either. I _don't care,_ and I don't have to care." Brad swallowed and nodded, blinking. I hated seeing that look on a face so much like my own but better. I didn't want to see that face at all. I didn't hate Brad, or my other two brothers. I never had. But I didn't care a whole hell of a lot about them either. They were strangers to me, and I didn't need or want them in my life. It was too late, and that it had taken our father's death and our mother's impending one to get one of them to finally look in on me was aggravating and hurtful beyond belief.

Brad swallowed and nodded, and he closed his eyes for a second then reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a small silver case. He took out a card, then a pen, wrote something on the back, and was going to hand the card to me but quickly reconsidered and gave it to Mat, though he held my eyes. "Here," he murmured. "If you or Amanda ever need--"

"We don't want your blood money," I growled.

"Mitchell," Mat sighed.

I walked away. I couldn't deal with this. I went down the hall and went into my room and slammed the door shut and sat down hard on the edge of the bed to put my head in my hands. I heard Mat and Brad's voices, soft murmurs, then the girls' brighter voices, then the front door opened and closed and it went silent. Mat talked quietly to the girls for a bit then his footsteps came down the hall.

He knocked softly on the door. "Can I come in, babe?" he asked.

"You know you can," I said in a hurt tone. He came in and closed the door most of the way behind him, and I muttered, "I'm sorry. I can't deal with this. It's too much."

Mat sat down next to me and put his arms around me, holding me tight. "You don't have to deal with it. You don't have to talk to any of them ever again if you don't want to."

"I don't."

"Then don't. It's your choice, and I'll back you up no matter what you decide." He kissed the side of my head.

We sat quietly for a while, then I muttered, "He's a lawyer, isn't he."

Mat sighed, "Yeah, he's a lawyer. He definitely had that vibe going on, didn't he." He rubbed my back. "I'm going to warn you, he gave Amanda a business card too." I instantly tensed up, and he quickly said in gentle warning, "She's an adult, sweetheart. You can't stop her from contacting them if she wants to."

"They'll poison her. It's what that family does."

Mat made a sound of exasperation. "Your parents were shit, and it sounds like your grandparents were too, but even if your brothers took the easy way out, it doesn't mean they're anything like your parents. I'm not taking their side, you know I'm not, but the biggest crime your brothers committed was not checking up on you right away. They shouldn't have believed your parents, but they did, because they were young and self-absorbed and it was easy. It was good that your oldest brother eventually sent someone looking for you, but even then it was too little too late. It didn't get you help when you needed it." He gave me a squeeze. "If getting back in touch with them does nothing but hurt you, then don't do it. Even if you just don't care, don't do it. You have to do what's right for you. You can't make that choice for Amanda, but you can make it for you."

I nodded, my head still in my hands, some of my emotional turmoil subsiding. Mat was right. Of course he was right. I didn't owe my brothers anything. It was unfortunate that they all felt like shit about things, but frankly they deserved to.

So Michael had become a pediatrician. I bet that had galled our father to no end. It didn't feed into the Dr. Coleman god complex that our father and grandfather had embraced. Michael worked with children, and his wife worked with teens, and now Michael knew that his baby brother had been tossed into the street to fend for himself at the tender age of 18. And Gregory had ended up hating our father too, and the lesbian or bisexual daughter had been the tipping point for them not being on speaking terms. Beautiful.

And Bradley was a lawyer. It was funny, sort of, because he looked exactly like movie lawyers looked. I knew enough about lawyers and law school to know that it wasn't at all the glamorous job it appeared to be, that it was alternately stressful and tedious, that it took its toll on marriages. It was odd that Brad had refused a beer and said he didn't drink, as much as he had loved partying when he was younger. It made me wonder if he'd ended up with a drinking problem. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't worn a wedding ring, either. Plenty of men didn't, but I had to wonder.

No. No, I didn't have to wonder. I didn't have to wonder a damn thing, and it pissed me off that I was now wondering.

And there were those two bankers boxes in my living room, filled with god knew what. Pictures. Keepsakes. Hell if I knew, and I couldn't bear the thought of opening them. It would feel like opening Pandora's box. Pandora's bankers boxes.

"Think you can eat something?" Mat asked. "You're not getting a headache, are you?"

"No, no headache. Maybe I'm a little hungry." I lifted my head from my hands and saw Amanda peeking through the crack in the door, and felt a surge of hurt that I knew was misplaced. She had every right to speak to my brother if she wanted to. Get to know my family. But I didn't want her to. I didn't want her to leave herself open to that potential grief.

She said in a small voice, "Pop…"

Mat kissed my cheek and said, "I'm going to go get dinner started." He got up and left without waiting for my response, leaving the door wide open, gently touching Amanda on the shoulder as he passed.

Amanda and I stared at each other for several seconds, then I sighed and patted the bed. "Come here honey," I murmured. She did, settling next to me then leaning against me, and I put my arm around her and said, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

She mumbled, "I'm sorrier that you're upset."

"I shouldn't have used that kind of language in front of you and Carmen."

"Jeez Pop, I'm almost 19. You think I don't hear worse than that from my friends every day? You had the right to get upset. I mean...I know he's trying to help. He feels bad, I can see that, but… if it hurts you then he shouldn't come around. He doesn't mean to, I'm sure, but it does." She paused then said in a sheepish tone, "I um...have a tiny confession to make, it um... you see, I ah...I've known for a long time what your old last name was."

A tremor went through me, and I felt her tense. I rubbed her shoulder and muttered, "Really."

"Yeah, uh...when I was thinking about getting a summer job, after my freshman year. I never did, but...I wanted to find my social security number, so I um, looked through the file cabinet, and I found the card, but…" She drew in on herself. "I sort of snooped? A little? I found your marriage certificate, with your old name on it, and Dad um, caught me. I don't remember where you were, but you weren't home, and Dad told me never to bring it up. He said your parents had been bad to you when you were a kid and you didn't want anything to do with them, including your name. But...I was old enough to start, um...snooping online?" Her voice ended in a squeak.

I let go of her and bent over to put my face back in my hands.

"I'm sorry!" she whimpered.

"I'm not mad, honey," I mumbled.

"I didn't contact anyone, I swear. Him coming here had nothing to do with that."

"I know. I would never think that." I sighed heavily and sat back up to envelop her in a hug. I was _not_ going to get my daughter caught up in my emotional issues. I was sure as hell not going to make her feel bad for naturally being curious. "Mat said he gave you a business card. If you want to talk to him, to them, that's your business, but...please be careful. I don't want you to get hurt. It seemed like his intentions were good, and maybe Greg and Mike are fine, I honestly don't know, but that's the thing: I don't know. They're strangers to me, honey. I haven't seen or talked to them since I was your age, and I don't think you can really understand at this point just how long a span of time that is. None of us are the same people anymore."

And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Brad had been full of himself, arrogant, not a bad guy but annoying, Greg had been a bit more hotheaded than the rest of us, impatient, loud and obnoxious. Mike had been a lot older than me, never mean in any way but distant, uninterested in much of anything to do with me, and that only became more so the older we got, until finally he just was never around anymore. That he had felt any reason to cry over me was more than a little shocking. Maybe it had been a generic sort of grief and guilt, over the thought that such a thing would happen to anyone's child, let alone one he had once sort of known. I very much doubted he felt bad for me, specifically.

I was able to get myself together and we went back out to join Mat and Carmensita. We made dinner, ate that dinner while we watched a movie, but the entire time those boxes were lurking by the overstuffed chair. My eyes kept going back to them, over and over again, and so did Mat's.

I knew I should open them. Just get it over with. I was pretty sure there were photos in there, pictures of me, maybe family pictures. I wanted to ask Brad what had happened after I was gone, and I despised myself for wanting to know. Had my parents gone through the house and erased all evidence of my existence? I had been in all the family portraits since the day I was born, so...had they just put all those away? Or had they left them out so that they could sigh tragically when their friends came over about the child who just hadn't fit in and had refused to conform to their good Christian principles? I honestly couldn't say which they had done, but Brad knew. Greg and Mike knew.

Ugh. I hated this. I absolutely hated it.

Mat and Carmensita went back to their house around 11, though I could tell that Mat wanted to stay over, stay close to me, but there was nowhere for his daughter to sleep when Amanda was home, her bed only a double, and Carmensita was definitely not sleeping on the couch when her own bed was right next door. I felt okay, wiped out but okay. As long as I didn't open those boxes.

We ended up opening the boxes.

Mat and Carmensita came over for breakfast, and we all sat there silently eating, Carmensita looking at Amanda and her dad, then me, the girls looking at me then Mat, and me trying very hard to not look at anyone at all.

I finally couldn't take it anymore and told Amanda to just go open them if she wanted. I could tell she was eager to, though sensitive to how I must feel about it. When she lifted the lids a musty smell filled the living room, as if they'd been stored away in a garage or an attic. Carmensita knelt at her side and the girls peered in.

"Wow," Amanda whispered. The first box was full of file folders. Eighteen file folders. One for every year of my life, neatly labeled. Amanda put her hand over her mouth, her arms folded, and didn't look in any of them at first. Maybe it was really hitting her, finally. That I'd had an actual childhood, with a group of people she had never met, had never heard about much at all, and that two of those people had chosen to throw their own child out of the house and box up his life and hide it away somewhere. "Pop," she whispered. She sounded choked up, like she was going to start crying.

 _That_ I could not stand. And especially not over me.

I forced myself up, feeling a little sick to my stomach, wishing I hadn't eaten, and went to sit on the floor next to her and put my arm around her, and Mat followed my lead and sat on his daughter's other side.

I opened the very last file folder, and in it were some report cards and a few pictures...my senior portrait, oh my god, and the last family Christmas photo we had taken, where everyone was smiling except me. I was fairly certain that was going to be the case in a lot of the photos in this box, after a certain point.

Mat laughed a tiny bit and took the senior photo. "Man, what a cutie," he said in delight, though I could hear the sadness there too. "Look at those cheeks." I grunted, my face warming. "And look how blue those eyes were."

"Technically, they're still just as blue," I muttered, sounding lame. So very lame. I had been pretty damn chubby at that point, and...okay, I was also pretty cute, but my body image issues had been at an all-time high when that was taken, and you could tell from my expression in the photo that I'd hated getting my picture taken. I would never in a million years think twice about someone else's kid being heavy, would have felt extremely protective and defensive of them, so why did I continue to give myself a hard time? Especially past me? I looked at that cherub-faced kid and all I could feel was terribly sorry for him, with twinges of old anger and grief underlying it.

Mat put the senior photo back and took out the Christmas portrait. It was obvious that it had once been in a frame, and when he looked at the back it was labeled _Coleman Family Christmas 1988_ in my mother's beautiful cursive script.

She was standing there next to my father, his arm around her, both of them smiling, Dad clean cut and handsome, Mom blonde and slender and gorgeous, wearing a pretty red v-neck sweater with matching lipstick and nails, with a big diamond snowflake pendant on a gold necklace, a ruby and diamond bracelet on her wrist. All our outfits were coordinated, of course, as they always had been in portraits, but looking at me you could just tell that I was the odd one out. I was a little taller than my brothers, the only overweight one, the only one not really smiling, looking surly and uncomfortable and awkward next to my fit, attractive family.

"Your parents look like dicks," Mat stated, a note of distaste in his voice.

I replied, "I'm pretty sure if I look up the definition of Stepford wife, my mother's picture would be right there." I wondered for the nth time what sort of Faustian bargain my mother had struck with my father to sell me out the way she had, but maybe the bargain had been struck long before I came along. Was the memory of the love she'd once had for me a lie I had told myself? Maybe she had never actually loved me at all, not the way I understood a parent's love. Maybe she'd never really loved any of us. Maybe all four of us had only been extensions of her and Dad all along. Maybe my brothers knew that too. Maybe that was why Mike had gone his own way, as much as he could, in the career he had chosen, and why Greg had told Dad to go to hell, and why Brad might possibly be a recovering alcoholic with a divorce under his belt.

Christ. What a goddamn mess.

We dug back through the years, and Mat cooed over my perceived cuteness while I tried to take it in the spirit it was intended and keep up a brave face for the girls. I had gushed over Mat's childhood and teen photos and how adorable he had been too, so I knew he wasn't just doing it, and that wasn't his way regardless. And I had been a cute kid, before hitting puberty, when I'd started turning to food for the comfort my parents refused to give, that I'd learned by then not to look for. Well, no, I'd been cute then too. I had been, but my discomfort with myself had been obvious in every single picture.

We hit the photos before 3rd grade, and...those were harder. I was clearly happier, freer. I looked at that little guy and wondered who I would be now if I'd just been allowed to be me. I looked at all the pictures of a skinny little boy with a mop of brown hair and big blue eyes and a charming grin who looked like he was always dancing or singing, or playing in the kitchen, or picking flowers in the garden, and that was what finally made me feel like bawling. I didn't, but god how I wanted to. My heart bled for that kid and who he could have been. I liked to dance and sing now, and cook, and garden, but it was so hard for me to just throw myself into things and enjoy them freely without that vague, distant sense of disapproval nagging at me sometimes. Or without alcohol to loosen me up. It was rare most days for that feeling to dog me, and had been for many years, but every so often it still cropped up.

By time we reached the baby pictures I had lost interest in the entire endeavor, and got up to get more coffee. I heard the girls rooting through the other box, and I glanced over to see little odds and ends...a tattered little stuffed orange cat that I only vaguely remembered, a stained and yellowed baby outfit, a silver rattle engraved with my name. Mat was getting up off the floor, a lot less stiffly than I did. Maybe I should start doing yoga with him. We could do that together without being constantly distracted by each other. Maybe.

He came over to me and wrapped his arms around me from behind. "You doing okay?" he asked softly.

"I think so," I replied in kind. "It hurts, but...not like I thought it would. Maybe it'll hit me later, I don't know." Oddly enough, I didn't think it would. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since last night, but it didn't feel like it was going to send me on any kind of downward trajectory. It had helped that Mat had been so supportive and hadn't tried to talk me into reconnecting with my siblings. I could tell that Amanda was really mulling things over in her mind, but all I could do was caution her. I'd raised her to make her own choices, no matter how borderline smothering I had been at times, and part of being an adult was having to live with the choices you made. All I could do was help her make good ones, if she asked for that kind of help. I hoped she did, if not from me then at least Mat.

We all headed over to Mat's just after noon when Brian showed up with Daisy, and once again I stood in awe of his command of his job. He came up with some fantastic ideas that were much more affordable than I had imagined, though I was aware that he was giving us the 'Friends & Neighbors' discount. He suggested a spiral staircase to replace the ladder stairs, something none of us had considered, and taking out the railings and doing half walls with shutters, so the room could be left open when Amanda was gone. He could frame in a closet, and take out the window that was there and put in one that opened, for safety reasons and to get some air flow up there; luckily the opening was a standard size, since Mat's house was masonry block instead of wood frame.

Amanda started to get more and more excited as Brian threw out more ideas, and...wow, what a relief. Carmensita was excited too, and Daisy just by proximity to the whole thing, and the girls really got into the spirit of it all with Brian, who clearly found the whole thing cute as hell. I glanced at Mat and he was watching our daughters together with a soft smile on his face. I wondered if he was thinking what I was, that they might be sisters someday, then he looked at me and his smile grew even more tender, his eyes shining.

I moved close to him and put my arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. This was really going to happen. I was just ridiculously happy right now. Brian said he could work on this between jobs and do it at a little bit above the cost of the materials, in exchange for some help, which Mat and I could provide, and some free flyer design for his business, which I had offered long ago and was more than happy to finally take him up on. He didn't think the job would take terribly long, a few weeks to a month. It wouldn't be done by time Amanda visited next, but it would definitely be done by time she came home for spring break, and before she was home for the summer.

We were doing this. Really doing this. Amanda was on board with the space in the loft. I was moving in with Mat in just shy of two weeks. We were going to be a family, if we weren't already.

I had a family.

And my birth family was now back in the picture, and I still wasn't sure how I felt about that. I was unhappy about it, definitely, but… I had been thinking about it off and on all last night and this morning. Michael crying. Greg storming off. Greg's daughter and her wife. Brad and whatever he had going on, and being put in the middle of it by our mother.

I shouldn't care. And it wasn't so much that I cared, but that I honestly wanted to know what had been said about me after I was gone. What they were saying about me now. What Brad had really said to our mother, what she had told him to do with the boxes, and why. Get rid of them. She had told him to get rid of them, which implied that she hadn't asked him to give them to me. And yet he had. He had come back even after I basically told him to fuck off and stay away. Had given Mat and Amanda his business cards and offered...something, help, money, damned if I knew. It would be a cold day in hell before I went to any of my family for any kind of assistance. I had made it this far on my own, and with Alex, and with the help of just about everyone _but_ my family. They didn't get to swoop in at this point and try to 'help', and I was going to make sure my child understood the ramifications of accepting anything from them.


	31. Chapter 31

I knocked on Amanda's door, hearing her humming and her foot tapping, and when she called me in I saw her taking out her earbuds. She had her laptop open on her desk, and it seemed she was looking at ways to decorate a loft. God, I loved her. And Mat. And Carmensita. My family. The family I had made for myself, not the one I'd been forced into by an accident of birth.

"Hey honey," I said as I came in. "Got a few minutes?"

"You and your crazy rhetorical questions," she sighed in forbearance. I came in and sat on her bed, and she asked, "Everything okay?"

"Ye-eess," I said, my tone uncertain.

"Is this about your family?"

It was spooky how well the child knew me. I'd shoved the boxes into my closet Saturday night, on the floor, one stacked on top of the other, after debating whether to perform the ritual that I'd half-jokingly mentioned to Mat's dad and burn it all. I couldn't bear to do it. Sunday had come and gone, quiet and lazy, and here it was Monday and I couldn't let the matter lie any longer.

"Mat says Brad gave you one of his business cards," I began. Amanda frowned and her eyes shifted away, and I said, "Sweetie, what you do with it is your business, but for the love of god, think long and hard before you ask for or accept anything from anyone in that family, especially any kind of financial assistance. Please. There'll be a price. There always is."

Her eyes went back to me, those sweet brown eyes. All the people I loved most had them in some shade: Amanda, Mat, Carmensita, Craig. Even Damien, Hugo and Robert had brown eyes. My parents and all my siblings had blue eyes. Cold eyes, in my father's case, and his parents'.

When she didn't say anything I pleaded, " _Please_ , Panda honey. We're doing fine. My house is paid for and we're doing okay with keeping on top of your college costs. It isn't worth it."

"But--" I tensed up, no matter how I tried not to, and she said, "I heard Brian say how much the loft is going to cost. I was right there. That's a lot of money."

"Not really. Not considering what we're having done, which honestly isn't as much as it seems."

"Pop…" Amanda seemed to wrestle with something a bit then started over, "Daddy, I'm not… I don't have any plans to ask any of your brothers for anything."

"Okay. That's good. But I'm sensing a but."

"But, and I'm not proud of myself for this, your family should have to pay after what they did to you." I gaped at her, and she said with a touch of pained anger, "Those pictures...Pop, those _pictures_ . I looked at _all_ of them, and in so many of them, you look...you just look _wounded_. You and Dad gave me such a great life. You gave me everything, and I was so happy, and I heard everything you said that I know is only a fraction of the story, and...and my heart hurts."

I swallowed as I stared at her, and I had to blink and look away before the waterworks started.

"It isn't fair," Amanda insisted. "After everything you've been through, they're still hurting you, and I know your brother doesn't mean to, I know he's trying to help, and I know that the people who are responsible are out of reach and no one can ever make them pay except maybe in your mom's guilt, but...but it feels like someone should."

I shook my head. "Don't," I said in a rough voice. "Not you. You…" I cleared my throat, trying to get the angry lump out of it. And I wasn't angry at her. I was horrified, and hating my parents more than ever, that their influence had reached this far, to someone who had never even met them. "You aren't the one to decide that, or get any kind of payback. If I wanted that, really wanted that, I would have gotten the information from Brad and gone to see my mother and made her pay myself." When Amanda was silent I looked at her, and she was staring at me with a forlorn expression. I made a sound of grief and patted the bed, and she came to sit next to me so I could fold her into a hug.

"I wish you would tell me," she whispered, her arms around my waist. "What they did. What you went through."

I kissed her head then said against it in slow, measured tones, "Honey, I love you more than any other person in this world. But I will never, ever tell you. Not as long as I live."

"Pop…"

"I'm sorry, but no. Your dad knew. Craig knows things even your dad never knew. But I only told Mat what I had to, and I'm not telling you anything more than you already know. It isn't your place to protect me or heal my hurts. You and Mat and Carmen help me enough just by being around and loving me. Anything more than that is what I pay my therapist for." I had texted back and forth with Craig since Friday night too, keeping him in the loop, so he was providing a bit of best friend therapy as well. I was doing all right, considering. If I hadn't been here, surrounded by friends and loved ones, and if I hadn't been doing therapy again for the last nearly five months, I probably would have been a wreck.

Amanda grumbled and didn't press the issue, and I was glad. I wanted to keep my child as untouched by all this as I could. It was bad enough that my brother had come into my home and had actually spoken to my kid without adding more to it. I'd said enough in front of Amanda about my childhood.

I changed the subject entirely and motioned towards her laptop. "What are you working on?" I asked.

"Just batting some ideas around," she replied as she got up to fetch it. She sat back down with it in her lap. She smiled up at me and said, "I'm really happy for you and Mat."

"I'm happy too, honey. I honestly am."

"That's so great," she said, her relief obvious.

I rubbed her back and stated, "You don't have to worry about me. I've got really good friends here that look out for me, and some of our old friends still look in on me and I've been trying to meet up with them when I can."

"And you've got Mat." Her tone was kind of odd, and when I looked at her curiously she asked, "Are you guys going to get married someday?"

Wow, her and Carmensita. Trying to make honest men out of both of us. "Yes, someday we are," I admitted. "We've already talked about it."

"Really," she said in surprise, her eyes big. "Oh Pop...wow. Already?"

"We did before you came home for Christmas. After he got back from helping out his parents. We both want to, and we've already sort of agreed that we're going to." Someday.

"Does that mean you're engaged?"

"Um...I don't...think so?" Were we? No. No, of course we weren't. Just because you'd talked to someone about marriage didn't mean you were automatically engaged. Neither of us had flat out asked the other. But then Alex and I hadn't ever gone through that formality either. We had never actually been formally engaged, other than when the legal green light had been lit and we'd set a date. To me, date setting was a vital component to an engagement, beyond being asked.

It would be nice to be asked, though. It wasn't as if I hadn't spent way too much time fantasizing about various scenarios. Or fantasizing about asking Mat to marry me. But I wasn't going there until he seemed ready, and to be honest I didn't think either of us were 100%. Close, but not quite.

Amanda's tone became no-nonsense as she closed the lid of her laptop. "So what's the hold up?"

I stammered, "Well, I...I don't know, I mean, I do know--"

"And?"

"Mat's concerned about his, um, finances. Which I'm not at liberty to discuss. His finances are fine. I have no concerns whatsoever about them. But he does. And with my family back in the picture, even if they aren't, um, entirely, and moving in together, and not being sure what to do with my house, things are a little unsettled right now. We want to enjoy just living together for a while before we take that next step." I squeezed her to me and said, "Your dad and I didn't start talking about getting married until we'd been living together a year. The situation is entirely different, I know, and maybe we would've talked about it sooner if getting married had been a possibility back then, I don't know, but maybe not. We were really young. Mat and I aren't, and we both know what we want, but combining our two households is a lot more complicated than it was with me and your dad. Alex and I started from almost nothing. Mat and I have houses and businesses and kids. You're an adult, but Carmen isn't." Mat's daughter was going to be with us for another six years at least.

Amanda nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "So Mat's parents haven't agreed to moving up?"

"No. Doug sounds like he's all right with it, but Bev has a pretty active social life down there. Both of their families are down there. That's a lot to give up. Mat won't move down there. Re-establishing a business down there wouldn't be easy, and he refuses to move Carmen away from her school and her friends, which I totally agree with." I shrugged. "Stalemate. They're going to have to make a final call soon, because I can't just leave the house sitting here empty. Financially I can't, and I hate the idea of this place not being lived in." I was pretty attached to the house. It was the one Amanda and I had made together. It was a cozy, cute little place, and I wanted it to be loved.

"Maybe...maybe you could rent it out? Until the Sellas decide if they're ready."

"I could. I've thought about it. But I'd hate for someone to move in then have Doug and Bev decide they're ready. It would feel like pulling the rug out from underneath the renters."

"Oh. I didn't think about that."

"Mat and I will figure it out." I kissed her temple. "You're sure you're okay with the loft?"

"Oh, yeah, of course! I know I didn't seem all that excited before, but...I was just picturing the loft as it is. I wish you guys didn't feel like you have to spend money on it…"

I assured her, "It isn't a big deal. Really. We're going to have Brian fix a few things here too, and update some things in Mat's house. And put in a new fence between the houses." If Mat's parents moved in, or I kept it as a rental, we would be putting in a gate with a lock on Mat's side.

God, I really wanted Mat's parents to move in.

Amanda and I ended up putting our shoes on and going next door to climb up the ladder stairs to the loft. She was really excited by the thought of a spiral staircase. She wanted to keep the futon couch, liking the idea of somewhere to flop out that wasn't her bed, and if she had friends over it would be another place to sit and talk, or another place for them to sleep over, and Carmensita could use it for the same while Amanda was away at school. There was more room up there than in her current room, definitely.

When we headed back down the ladder, I nudged her and said, "Come here, I want to show you something."

"Sure!"

I took her over to the keyboards. Mat had his notes put away. He was doing a great job of keeping his writing secret, though where he would find time for it once we moved in together was a mystery. I wondered when he was going to let me hear any of it. Maybe he was saving it for an open mic night? While the idea of being serenaded in public was appealing, I was also pretty apprehensive of that, first of all, because I'd probably start crying, secondly, because what if the songs weren't completely happy? Mat had been with me through some pretty rough times. What if like many artists he had felt compelled to write about them?

I shoved that thought away.

I pulled out the bench and Amanda said in shock, "Oh my god, Pop!"

I grinned at her and turned on the keyboards then started to play something simple. "I've been practicing," I said with an inordinate amount of pride. She knew that I'd taken years of piano lessons, from nine until high school, and that I'd played for fun until college and meeting Alex, but she had never seen me play.

"Oh wow, that's great!" she said in delight. "Has Mat been teaching you? I mean, reteaching?"

"No. I'm doing it to surprise him." I made sure that I always put everything back exactly the way he'd left it, down to the settings and where the bench was. I didn't want to give him any kind of indication that anyone but him had been using it.

She put her balled up fists under her chin and gushed, "Oh my god, that's so cute!"

"I was going to call Mat's mom and ask for more help. I've gotten about as far on my own as I can." Muscle memory was helping a lot, and I'd made decent progress, considering my age, but I needed the help of a professional, and a music teacher was about as good as it got. I should have done it sooner, but Amanda was home and I'd wanted to spend as much time with her as I could, when I wasn't working and she wasn't with friends. I had never called either of Mat's parents on my own before, so it was a bit of a scary prospect.

I played a little longer while we talked about the upcoming move, her new classes, her plans for the summer, if she'd met anyone at college, then she dropped a bombshell on me.

"Yeah, about that," she said with a self-conscious laugh. "I uh...crap."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Yes?" When she fidgeted I turned off the keyboards and turned around on the bench to look at her. "Did you meet someone at school?" I tried not to look hurt that she hadn't told me. She hadn't even hinted at it. But then it wasn't exactly my business, was it? I wasn't one of her friends; I was her dad, and some things parents just didn't need to know.

I clearly didn't do a good job at that because Amanda looked guilty and said, "Oh Pop, it isn't like that. But I may have, um...agreed to go out to eat Wednesday night with...um, Pablo?"

I… "W-what?" I said in a faint voice. "Who?"

"Pablo," she said more firmly. Defensively. "We're going out only as friends. It is absolutely, 100% not a date in any way. I made that crystal clear to him."

"And was he fine with that?" I didn't growl. I did not in any way do the over-protective dad growl.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Of course he was."

Well that made me feel like a jerk. Of course Pablo was fine with that. I knew he liked Amanda, but he had never been pushy about it. He had respected her space completely every time she visited, and this last month he hadn't approached her at all even to make conversation, not that I could tell.

"We're going to the diner at four," she explained, "and getting separate checks. Not even splitting. This is _not_ a date. _At all_."

"But...how?" I asked plaintively. "Did this, um...happen?" And when? Was I so wrapped up in Mat that I hadn't noticed?

"Last Friday he was showing me the merchandising you guys came up with. Which is super cute by the way, I don't think I told you that."

"Thank you?" Last Friday...we'd walked over to the Coffee Spoon to get out of the house, and...I had gone back into the kitchen with Mat to help him fix us some breakfast. Or brunch rather. I still kept my regular routine that I'd gotten into with Mat of getting up early, even if I wasn't sleeping over there, but Amanda was taking full advantage of being home and on break.

"We just sort of...started talking. Like normal people. He wasn't trying to impress me or anything." She shrugged. "He was all right, when he wasn't trying so hard. So I said maybe we got off on the wrong foot and maybe we should go grab some chili dogs or something. He was pretty chill about it."

I nodded. "Good." None of my business. Amanda was 19 and knew what she was doing. She'd made good choices at college, as far as I knew, and she could handle herself. If she asked for my help or seemed upset, then I would step in, but I honestly didn't see any reason to do so. Pablo really was a good kid, and I'd never seen any evidence that he wouldn't respect Amanda and her wishes.

"Could I borrow the car? It's too cold to walk, and I figured you'd hitch a ride with Mat to trivia night."

"Of course, honey." Hugo and I were still battling to take back our title from Brian and Mat, and we weren't anywhere close to giving up.

I carefully put everything back exactly as Mat had left it, and we locked up the house and went back to ours. Amanda went back to relaxing in her room and browsing the internet while I went back to work in mine.

Our conversation wouldn't leave my mind, though. I didn't have any concerns about her having an early dinner with Pablo. She was going about it in a very adult way, and I had never worried about Pablo himself doing anything inappropriate. He was a young guy, only 20, but for his age he was pretty mature, and his mom had done an amazing job raising him on her own. Mat also provided a steady guiding hand and positive adult male influence. Pablo was going to be all right, and it would be nice if he and my daughter could strike up a friendship.

That wasn't the only part of our talk that stuck with me, though. I couldn't help worrying about Amanda contacting my brother Brad. She hadn't promised me she wouldn't, though I hadn't been so demanding as to make her promise. I worried that in her desire to protect me and make my parents pay even in a small way for what they had done to me, that she would try to get in contact with my mother.

The thought wouldn't let me go, once it was rooted, and it stayed there for a couple days as I watched Amanda stewing every so often then looking at me with a slight frown and a thoughtful expression.

Wednesday afternoon came and Mat and I headed to Charcutiepie, Carmensita in the back seat, and as we passed Brian's house I saw him and Hugo getting into Brian's truck. Carmensita had her earbuds in and was listening to music on her phone. It made me happy every time I saw her with it. Her reaction Christmas morning had been priceless. Her scream-crying had been just as intense as it had been at that boy band concert last summer.

"Sooo," I murmured.

"Yeah babe?"

I love how he called me that. He called me that more often than even Alex had, though Alex had had a wider variety of endearments that he'd circulated through. Mat called me sweetheart once in a while, though he usually saved that for when I was feeling sad, or when he was being very patient with me. He'd called me honey a few times lately, and it had nearly left me in a puddle.

"Do you, um...still have that business card my brother gave you?"

Mat frowned and cast a quick glance sideways at me. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can I have it?"

He looked in the rearview mirror then at me again as his frown deepened. "Why?" he repeated.

I sighed, "I'm not going to destroy it or anything. I just...I want his contact information." I waited for Mat to ask why again, because I wasn't about to elaborate on my own. Even telling him 'just in case' would have felt like a lie, so I'd rather not explain at all. I let out the breath I had been holding when I saw him relax and nod.

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's yours."

I smiled at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he leaned partway to meet me, keeping his eyes on the road.

When we went to the restaurant, we paused inside to wait for our respective trivia partners, and Mat got out his wallet and fished out the card. He handed it to me then asked if he could take the information down as well, and I didn't have a problem with that. Brad had given the card to both of us, really. Mat took a picture of the card then programmed all the contact info into his phone.

I looked at the card, and...wow. I carried a few of my business cards with me too, but...man, how much did these cost? The card was matte black, with silver foil lettering, and on the back was the logo for his law firm, and a phone number written in silver ink. He didn't seem to be a partner, but maybe he just wasn't a named one? Did law firm partners put that on their business cards? Was that how it worked? I didn't have a clue, and didn't want to, but man, were these cards classy. Mine were nice, simple, but these were honestly gorgeous.

"Pretty fancy, huh," Mat said.

I grunted with a nod. "Nice design." I stared at it a moment longer, looking at his name. _Bradley A. Coleman. Attorney At Law_. I turned it over again and looked at the handwritten number there. His cell number, maybe? Had he given Amanda his cell number too? I had to assume that he had. It seemed pretentious that he had written on the card in silver ink, but he couldn't exactly use anything else with the card being black, and maybe his firm dictated the color and style of the cards.

I put the card in my wallet, and when I looked up I saw Mat studying me. He didn't say anything but gave me a gentle smile, then looked past me.

"Hey guys!" he called.

I heard Hugo, Brian and Daisy back there, and I turned to greet them as well. We separated out to our respective tables, and I did my best to look natural, something that didn't come naturally to me at all.

We ordered our cheese board and a bottle of wine. I still preferred beer, but I thought maybe I was finally getting some sense of what made a decent wine. Maybe? Maybe I was fooling myself. They didn't exactly serve expensive wine at a place that held trivia nights. I doubted I would know a fine wine if it was given to me.

Hugo leaned his elbow on the table and put his chin on his hand. "Brian says one of your brothers showed up Friday night," he stated.

I stared at him with huge eyes. Right out of the gate. No warning at all.

His expression turned apologetic. "Carmen told Daisy about it."

I resisted the reflexive urge to look over at their table. "Yes," I murmured. "Brad. The next oldest one." Hugo waited, and I went on, "He brought boxes. Old photos, some keepsakes. We looked at them then I shoved them in a closet."

"Yes, but how did the visit go? I gathered it was tense, but then there isn't really any way it couldn't be, is there?"

I rubbed along my jaw then couldn't resist looking over and Mat and Brian's table. The two dads were sitting on one side, the girls on the other looking at something on Carmensita's phone, sharing a set of earbuds and smiling. It was so great that they'd finally clicked with each other. Brian and Mat were pretty good friends, and they were talking quietly, waiting for their drinks and board just as we were.

I dug out my wallet and took out Brad's card and handed it to Hugo, who took it with a low whistle.

"Fancy," he stated, a wry note in his voice.

"It's what my family does." I did a pretty good job of not sounding bitter. I had to remind myself that Brad had probably had no control over his firm's business card design.

Hugo handed it back. "What are you going to do?"

What _was_ I going to do? I'd taken the card with a purpose, but giving voice to it really brought it home.

I finally said, "I'm...going to assume the number on the back is his cell phone, and I'm going to text him and tell him to keep Amanda away from our mother."

Hugo looked stunned. "Is she wanting to contact her?"

"She found the photos upsetting," I mumbled as I put the card back into my wallet. "Maybe more than I did. It got the mama bear in her riled up and she said someone should pay for what my parents did to me. The only person left who can pay is my mother." I looked past my friend and muttered, "I wanted it to end with me. I've tried her whole life to keep my demons to myself and not let them touch her, and now she knows way too much and she's understandably upset about it, sure, but it...it pisses me off that my brother showing up did this to her, and part of me thinks maybe I should find out where my mother is and go give her hell, but she's been sick, and she's old, and in denial, and my brothers know the truth now and...and maybe that's satisfaction enough." I was self-aware and knew that going to visit my mother and unloading 40 years of pain and anger on her would do little more than poison me. I wasn't doing that to myself. Some people might find that healing, and that was fine, but it wasn't for me.

Hugo sighed and leaned forward to lay his hand over mine. "I am so sorry that you're dealing with this," he said with a frown. "I...just cannot imagine. My family, Grant's family, were always so supportive." I nodded and laid my hand over his, then he put the other on top. "Do you think he wants to re-establish contact?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "And even if he did, if any of them did...I'm not sure I could handle that."

"I don't blame you. And really, it's totally up to you. You don't owe them anything."

That was certainly true.

Hugo asked, "Did you have a good relationship with them as kids? You've never really said."

I shrugged one shoulder. Our wine arrived, and Hugo gave my hands a squeeze then let go. I glanced over at Mat and Brian's table, and their beers and the girls' sodas were arriving, and Mat was gazing at me with a worried expression, as if he'd been watching me and Hugo and knew what we were talking about. What we were talking about clearly wasn't a happy topic. I gave him a little smile and he relaxed a bit, then I turned my attention back to Hugo.

"It was...all right," I answered. "I guess. Mike was a lot older and I was annoying, and he just… didn't have much interest in me or what I was doing, and by time I was in fifth grade he was off to college and I only saw him at holidays and in the summers. Greg picked on me sometimes but not any more than any other older brother would, and he was never mean. None of them were, really. Brad was fine. A jerk, when he got older and realized how hot and smart he was, but not actively mean. We were close in age, and we played together most often, I guess. When we were smaller."

Hugo slowly nodded as he poured the wine, then he snorted a little laugh. "I could tell you horror stories about the things my siblings did to me growing up, and vice versa, and yet we're all very close."

My voice pained, I murmured, "I think I would take that over indifference."

He asked, "Do you think your parents fostered that?"

My therapist had asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago. I wasn't any more sure of an answer now than I had been then. I settled for saying, "They didn't help matters."

Our cheese board arrived, and Hugo kindly switched tracks over to the impending move into Mat's house, and the fate of mine.

When the Quizzmaster arrived and the game started it was clear that my head wasn't in it. The topics weren't my forte, and I was of course completely preoccupied. Hugo carried Team Havarti as best he could, but it was a team for a reason, and one half of said team couldn't stop obsessing over his family. Provolone 2: Lost In New York handily won the night, though Mat wasn't as on top of it as he usually was either.

The ride home was quiet, too quiet, and halfway there I reached over and took Mat's right hand off the steering wheel. He let out a relieved whoosh of breath and smiled, though he kept his eyes on the road. I took his hand in both mine and held it on my leg, then lifted it to give it a quick kiss, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. We still didn't say anything, but maybe we didn't need to.

Amanda was home when we got there, and Mat and Carmensita headed to their place so that he could help her with a school project. I went into my house and she was in her room, and I could hear her talking on the phone with a friend about Pablo. I listened just long enough to figure out that things had gone fine, then I headed back to my room to change into pajamas, since I wasn't going anywhere else. I hadn't even gotten the bottoms on when Amanda knocked on my door and asked if she could borrow the car again to go meet up with some friends, and of course that was all right. Mat and Carmensita were busy for the night, and of course I was free to go join them, but I could use the quiet time.

I sat on my bed and took out the business card and stared at it for a long time. It was a little after 6:00. Would my text interrupt Brad's dinner? Was he still working? Where did he even live?

I went to my computer and woke it up. Jesus, this was a bad idea. The worst. But I wasn't going to be blindsided again. I wasn't going to be unprepared.

I opened a browser and searched _Michael Coleman MD_. Start from the top and work my way down. I found the web page for his practice, his and his wife's. They were happy and smiling, and got fantastic reviews as being caring, competent pediatricians. There was a picture of Mike with his wife, kids and grandkids, a big happy family, and it all looked genuine. There wasn't any odd one out, and everyone was wearing coordinating casual outfits in white, tan and light blue on the beach. Nice. They looked like nice people. The website talked about their charity work with homeless teens in Boston, including the charity that had been so instrumental in saving me, one that I had donated to regularly ever since I'd had the means to do so. I doubted Michael had had any idea at all until last month how painfully ironic it was. Maybe that was part of why he'd started crying.

I searched Gregory Coleman, and that was harder to pin down. I found someone I _thought_ might be him, running a high-end organic market in Cambridge, but I couldn't be sure. The guy was heavyset, just a bit stockier than me, with a shiny shaved head and bushy white beard, black-rimmed hipster glasses, behind which were bright blue eyes, and he had a septum piercing of all things. In the photo he was grinning widely, hands on his hips, sleeves rolled up to show colorfully tattooed arms. I really couldn't be sure it was him. If it was, well, I could just imagine what Dad would have thought of pretty much everything he had going on...the beard, the tattoos, the piercing, the store, all of it. Even I found it a little shocking, that one of my brothers might deviate that strongly from the Coleman norm.

It was easy finding Brad. I just went to the URL on the business card. He had his own page, as all the partners did, because of course he was a partner, and he specialized in Professional Liability. The page went on to list his accomplishments, his membership in different professional organizations, etc., etc. I didn't understand any of it and didn't want to. The picture was nice though. He was really damn handsome. Model level handsome. Photogenic.

I finally did a search on our father, and of course there were all sorts of articles praising his character, his skill, his faith, his lovely family, and how many lives he had touched. No mention of me, and when I found his obituary I was similarly missing in the 'survived by' section. Nice. Really goddamn nice. I'd expected as much, but it was still aggravating.

Always a glutton for punishment, I looked up Alex. I expected to find an obituary for Alejandro Rivera, and I did. One of our friends must have published it, when I couldn't bring myself to do it. _Survived by his husband Mitchell and daughter Amanda_. I had survived, somehow. Losing him had felt like the end of the world, but it hadn't been. I had Mat now. I had a family again, one of my choosing, though it had been more that it had chosen me, it seemed. I had survived losing Alex, and I was okay. Not perfect, but okay.

I closed the browser then sat there looking at my desktop, processing how I felt. It was hard to pin it down. I felt sort of numb, but not the bad kind of numb. A little overwhelmed. Lost.

Brad's first move after seeing me again was to call Mike and Greg and tell them they needed to meet and talk, about me, and the other two had shown up. He'd just called them up and they'd come together. That...that hurt. That he could just call up our brothers and they would come. Would any of them have come for me if I'd called, thirty years ago? Been there for me? Mike hadn't been around much after our father started coming down on me for every little thing, but Greg and Brad had, and neither of them had ever defended me, any more than our mother had. They had just been kids too, I knew that, and maybe had feared bringing his attention down on themselves, but… No one had ever been there, growing up. No one I could depend on. No one I could ask for help, or trusted to ask.

And here was Brad's business card, and an offer of help, if I needed it.

Too late. I didn't need help. I had a loving partner, a home, a bright, healthy daughter, two daughters maybe, a moderately successful business, good friends, a secure future. There was nothing that I needed from Brad. Except information. The scratching of an itch. And a promise to keep my daughter away from my mother.

I picked up my phone, staring at it, then the card. Then the phone. The card. He hadn't just given us the card, he had written a number on it that he didn't give out professionally. I hoped to the god that I didn't believe in that he had really meant everything he said.

_ME: I'm sorry to bother--_

No. No, I wasn't starting out by apologizing. I refused to apologize for anything. I erased it and started over.

_ME: This is Mitchell. I'm assuming this is your cell number._

_ME: I don't want to talk, I just want your promise that you won't let my daughter see your mother. She's upset over the pictures and what she heard, and I want to make sure she doesn't find out where your mother is. That's all I ask._

There. It was sent.

I'd just contacted my brother. For the first time in almost 30 years, I had reached out. In a way.

I set the phone down, my hands suddenly shaking a bit. I should go see Mat. Or Craig. Any of our friends, all of whom were well aware of what was going on in my life at this point, up to my brother showing up again. Craig would be the least sympathetic towards my family, having been the one to nurse me through too many drunken crying jags and drag me away from too many fights. Craig had heard it all, every vulgar detail, and he would be the last person to tell me to get back in touch with my brothers.

I wasn't getting in touch. I wasn't reaching out. This was one thing.

My phone pinged.

_UNKNOWN: Please, can we talk? I'd like to call, if I could._

My jaw clenched, and I replied with a very clear and brief refusal. _NO_. Of course Brad could ignore me, and call anyway, and I would refuse to answer and then block his number entirely. I did add his name to my contacts, just so I would instantly know if he tried. Seeing his name pop up in my texts was...jarring. A little surreal.

_BRAD: All right. Amanda won't get the information from me, I can promise you that._

_ME: Thank you_

I stood and put the phone in my pocket. There. Done. Maybe I didn't know my brother, but I trusted him to keep his word.

There was a bowl of ice cream with my name on it, though it was early still. I was bored and lonely without Mat and Amanda, feeling restless. I thought about going to the gym, but had no car to do so, and it was way too cold to go for a walk. I could do a bit more work, but that was a habit I had no interest in starting. I hadn't drawn in a few days, though. I'd been thinking about doing a digital painting of Maple Bay Harbor. There were galleries and little shops down by the waterfront where I might be able to put some prints on consignment. It never hurt to have a little extra cash coming in.

I got a bowl and spoon and went to the garage, hearing my phone chime in my pocket as I was filling the dish. Probably Mat. It had better be Mat. Or Amanda. Or anyone else but Brad.

Stubbornly, I took my time getting ice cream, then stood in the borderline freezing garage for a minute or two eating it while I looked at all the stuff stored out there. An extra overstuffed chair that I'd had no room for, one that was older and a bit worn, but it had been Alex's favorite. I was ready to part with it, and it wouldn't fit in Mat's house any better than it would fit in mine. There was a sofa table that was pretty nice that might work by Mat's front door and the dining set out here was a definite improvement over Mat's. An extra lamp and side table were out here too. Mat had two side tables in his bedroom, but another lamp on my side would be nice. I was definitely putting the Mariner's Star quilt on our bed. Mat loved it as much as I did and had already mentioned moving it over first. We would just have to pick through things and see what would work. I wanted my things to have a presence in the house, even if the house itself wasn't mine.

I went back inside, turning off the garage light on the way, then carried my ice cream into the bedroom. I set my phone on the desk, seeing the notification light blinking blue. It could be Mat. Or Amanda.

Grumbling, I swiped my phone on.

_BRAD: Greg wants to know if he can send you a letter._

_BRAD: It could be through me, if you don't want him to have your address._

My grumbling increased. I pecked out:

_ME: I don't want anyone else showing up at my house! Or Mat's shop!_

_BRAD: I promise that won't happen again. I can mail it to you. I think I remember how to do that._

Was that a joke?

_BRAD: It's sort of Greg's style. He's odd. You should see him now. Big beard and tats all over. Nose ring and everything._

So that really had been Greg. I suddenly couldn't wrap my mind around it. In my mind's eye Greg was still in his early twenties, with a headful of hair, slim, wearing a football jersey, not that jolly-looking hipster grocer.

I knew what Brad was doing, too, feeding me that little tidbit. Trying to hook me in.

_BRAD: So is that all right? The letter?_

I growled and set the phone on my desk, face down, and picked up my ice cream. I glared at my dark monitor as I ate. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go back and make it so that none of this had happened, any more than I had been able to go back and make it so that Alex hadn't died. I refused to talk to anyone else about this, either. I could tell Mat thought I should reconcile with my brothers. And it wasn't as if I hated them. But they had abandoned me. They had been so caught up in their own lives that they couldn't be bothered to look for me when they were told I was gone.

And just what had they been told? I still had no idea, other than that our parents had lied.

I picked back up the phone.

_ME: What did they tell you? About why I was gone?_

_BRAD: Please, I'd really like it if I could call you and talk about this. Please._

God, I was weak. Thirty years. It would be 30 years this June, and I was weakening.

_BRAD: I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness. None of us will. We know we aren't entitled to that, or anything else._

_ME: Fine._

The phone instantly rang, and I hesitated before answering. I didn't say anything. I could hear sounds in the background, the tv maybe, then suddenly there were two voices in the background squabbling over something, and the sound of the phone being covered.

"Hey you two, work it out or it's getting shut off," Brad called. The phone was uncovered and he sighed, "Sorry about that."

My throat was tight. This was a bad idea. One of the worst ideas that I had ever had.

"Mitch-ell?" he prompted.

"You…" I cleared my throat. "Your kids?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Emma and Jayden. Sixteen and fourteen. It's my week. Divorced."

"Oh." Emma. Christ, the world was drowning in Emmas. I wondered what Amanda would think when she found out she had a cousin Emma. My...niece and nephew. How many did I have?

"And like a good many things, my own damn fault," he stated matter-of-factly. "Is your daughter home?"

"No, she's out with friends. Mat and Carmen are at their place."

It was quiet for a moment. "I thought you lived together?"

"No. We're moving in together at the end of the month. After Amanda goes back to school. Mat lives next door."

Another long silence. "Huh. That's uh...hm."

"Odd, yes, I know," I said in irritation. "Yes, Greg can send the letter. Through you."

"All right. Thank you. Here, let me...go in the other room…" I heard his breathing change and the sound of the tv grow distant, then a door closing. "I appreciate this," Brad stated. I grunted. "You were asking what they said. Mom and Dad."

"Yes. That's all I want to know: what their explanation was." I had no interest at all in getting pulled into anything else. None.

"Right," he murmured. "There ah...wasn't much of one. Greg and I came home for summer break, well, Greg was just graduating, and… Christ, this is…" Brad struggled with it for a few seconds then asked, "You're sure you want to hear this?" His voice quavered a bit. As if he feared my reaction.

"Yes," I growled.

"Your room was completely cleaned out, it was...empty. Not even...it wasn't just that you'd packed up and left, it was… Everything except the furniture was gone. Bedding, curtains… all your things were _gone_ . Every photo that had you in it, gone from the house. As if you ah...had never even lived there. Neither of them said a word about you until Greg asked where you were, and Dad told us to follow him and took us into your room." I heard him swallow. "He ah...oh boy," he whispered. "Well, he said things, things that don't bear repeating, things that no one in their right mind would say, except...he _was_ in his right mind. He said the two of you had gotten into an argument and as usual you refused to comply, and you had said you'd had enough and packed your things and left. He said he had done his legal duty to you and washed his hands of you. Mom, she...she just stood there. Looking sort of hollow."

"I see," I whispered. And still, she'd said nothing. Nothing at all.

"Even if we hadn't been self-absorbed shitheads, Greg and I wouldn't have known where to look for you, neither of us had cars, and...and that isn't an excuse," Brad quickly said. "It isn't. Just a... statement."

"She didn't say anything?" I asked in a faint voice.

"The next time Mike came home to visit, at the next Thanksgiving, he asked if anyone had heard from you. Mom…" He drew in a shaky breath. "She said she'd talked to you and that you said you didn't want anything to do with the family any longer, any of us, and that...that you'd called her names then hung up on her. Dad said that was the last time he wanted you mentioned in his house, and...it was. In his hearing, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Mike, he asked Mom multiple times over the years if she'd heard from you, if she knew how you were doing, and she… Jesus. She told him that every time she'd reached out you'd rebuffed her. And Mike told me and Greg, and we...took her at her word. Maybe...maybe if I'd asked her myself, or Greg had, we might have been able to tell that she was lying, but… Well. We didn't."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I felt sick to my stomach. Evil. How could my parents have been so willfully evil, and then too cowardly to even admit what they had done? Plausible deniability, I supposed. That way if I'd gotten shanked out on the street they could just claim that I had run off.

Brad quietly said in a trembling voice, "Mitchell, I...I'm sorry. I'll never stop being sorry."

"I have to go," I mumbled.

"Wait, can we--"

I hung up. I silenced my phone all the way, with not even the vibrate on, then carefully set it face down on my desk and got up with the empty bowl. I took it to the kitchen and rinsed it out and put it in the dishwasher, then turned around with the spoon in my hand to go out in to the garage and sit in the chair out there and finish off the ice cream in the container.

I made it to the hallway then stopped. I stood there with the spoon clutched in my hand and fought with myself for a good half a minute. The ice cream wouldn't help, and I would feel like shit about myself afterward. I thought about that poor goddamn kid staring out of my senior photo and my heart ached for him, for all the times he'd drowned his sorrows and hurt, and it had never helped. I wasn't that kid anymore. I would never be slim, but I was fit, and I wasn't going to do this to myself, because in the end it would only be myself that I was harming. Well, no, not harming, but I would feel bad afterwards, and I wasn't going there.

The spoon went into the dishwasher, and I looked at the microwave clock. It wasn't even 7:00. I couldn't just go over to Mat's, but...god, how I needed him right now. If not him, Craig. But Craig and Ashley were back together now and she basically lived over there again, and I couldn't just crash their family time. I didn't want to bother my other friends either.

I ended up wrapping myself in a blanket and sitting on the couch watching a house hunting show, where a couple in their mid-20s with a limited budget were looking for a starter home and the wife was crying because she couldn't understand why quartz countertops and stainless steel appliances were out of their price range. Her husband was being so supportive, maybe a little too supportive, because he started crying, then the realtor was crying, and I was pretty sure that the camera guys were probably crying as well.

Somehow I found myself crying too. The first place I got with Alex had been a dump, a single bedroom apartment with hideous stained carpet, a mold problem, pipes that rattled in the bathroom wall when we took a shower, a perpetual drip from the kitchen faucet, and the freezer had needed regular deicing. It had been ours though, and the husband was hugging his cute little wife and telling her that even if their starter home wasn't what she'd dreamed of, it would still be theirs, and then the realtor was hugging both of them, her makeup starting to run a bit.

There was the sound of a key in the front door lock. It was way too soon for Amanda to be home, but she would enjoy crying over this with me. We loved crying over shows and movies together.

"Aw, babe, what's wrong?"

Oh no.

Mat shut the door then came over and sat on the couch and put his arms around me. He took one long look at the show, squinting, then clucked his tongue and kissed my cheek. "Please tell me you didn't do this to yourself on purpose," he sighed.

"Of course not," I said in bleary offense. "I just… _Look_ at them, Mat. They're just babies." I sniffed hard. "All she wanted was quartz and stainless steel. She thinks she's never going to get what she wants. She feels like her dream is dying, I can tell."

"Sweetheart, I…" Mat was silent for a while then he let out a long breath. "Yeah, that's rough. How will they survive," he said without sympathy. He plucked a tissue off the box on the table and gave it to me, then he hugged me to him and said, "I was worried. The car's gone and you weren't answering your phone."

I blew my nose. "I turned the sound all the way off."

"Why?"

I grimaced, my eyes still on the show as it cut to a commercial. "I talked to Brad." I felt Mat go still. "I texted him and told him to keep Amanda away from Mom, if it came up. He promised he would. Then he asked if Greg could send me a letter. My brother Greg is a hipster grocer in Cambridge. He has more tattoos than you do. He looks like...like Santa, but a hipster Santa. Greg used to wear nothing but football jerseys. All year round. He used to feather his hair, and now he doesn't have any at all. And Mike has like...four kids and half a dozen grandkids and Brad is divorced just like I thought and he has the kids this week. His daughter's name is Emma. Amanda has a cousin Emma, and we never knew. We…"

That was it. I was just gone after that, and Mat made a sound of dismay and turned me a bit so he could pull me to his chest and hold me. Stupid. Stupid that I was crying over this. Over family that I'd missed out on. That Amanda had missed out on. Playdates with cousins. Christmases. Birthday parties. Sleepovers. My parents never would have accepted me and Alex, but my brothers would have, if they hadn't been young, self-absorbed shitheads when I was thrown out, and if I hadn't been turned into someone bitter and untrusting by the two people I should have been able to trust most.

"Hey, hey," Mat whispered, his voice choked with tears.

"I can't ever get any of it back," I wept.

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

"They erased me from the house. When Brad and Greg came home it was like I'd never been there at all. Like I'd never even existed. My parents told them that I'd packed up and left after fighting with Dad. Mom told Mike at Thanksgiving that she'd talked to me and I'd said I didn't want anything to do with any of them. She lied to Mike over and over again. How can anyone be so f-fucking evil?"

Mat didn't say anything, just held me. It wasn't even what my parents had done to me, or not _just_ that. That was old news. It was that they had made it so that I didn't exist to my brothers, either. They'd not only cut me off themselves, but had made sure that I was dead to the entire family. It helped to know that my brothers had been lied to, and that they thought I was the one who didn't want to be contacted ever again. It did. I was still mad at them for believing it, but at least I could understand now why they'd never looked for me, beyond Mike's one attempt years later. Cruelly, I was glad that they all felt bad. They should. They absolutely should. But their greatest crime had been laziness, or cowardice maybe. As Mat had said, they weren't my parents.

When my tears tapered off, Mat reached out and grabbed the entire box of tissues. "Here," he murmured. "Why don't you text Amanda and tell her that you're staying with me tonight. No way in hell I'm letting you sleep alone."

"Okay," I choked.

"Where's your phone?"

"On my desk."

Mat kissed my forehead then got up and went into the back of the house. I blew my nose, my tears drying up, but I felt angry and miserable. Angry at my brothers. Hating my parents all over again. Grieving everything that I'd missed, and that Amanda had missed out on. I thought that hurt more than anything, that Amanda could have grown up with lots of cousins, with uncles and aunts. She'd grown up alongside the kids of a few of our friends, but Alex and I had gotten an earlier start on that than most of them, so Amanda had always been a little older than our friends' kids, those that had them. She'd had lots of friends growing up though. She'd been good about maintaining friendships. Better than I had ever been.

When Mat returned, he turned off the tv then handed me my phone, and to my surprise the notification light wasn't blinking. I...I had really expected Brad to try to contact me after I had hung up. I stared at my phone for a while then turned the ringer back up and swiped my phone on. Nothing.

Why had I expected him to keep trying? And after all, why would he? He hadn't before. Back then.

"He leaving you alone?" Mat asked.

I nodded. Mat had no doubt seen that no light was flashing. Brad was leaving me alone. Wasn't that what I wanted?

"I looked up your brothers," Mat admitted as he sat down next to me again. "I didn't think the inked grocery guy was Greg, but...wow. Not what I expected."

"Yeah. Wow." I blew my nose one more time.

"So he's going to send you a letter?"

"I guess. Through Brad."

"You said you talked to him… Did you mean texting, or…"

"He asked if he could call me, and I said yes. I wanted to know what our parents had told them, and it was too much to put into a text. The first thing I heard was his kids fighting over the tv. Emma and Jayden. They're 16 and 14. He thought you and I were living together, and I told him we would be soon and that you lived next door. Then he said...he was sorry, and would never stop being sorry, and I said I had to go and hung up."

Mat sighed heavily. "Shit. I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's rough." He gathered me into his arms again and kissed the top of my head.

"I don't know what to do," I whispered.

"You don't have to do anything right now. Let things sit for awhile. Think it out."

"I don't think I can forgive them. For letting me go."

"No one said you had to." He sighed again. "I don't know, I think forgiveness is overrated, as a concept. You can understand why someone did something and not give them a pass, but still move forward. Agree to leave things in the past and move forward. Maybe that is forgiveness, but you don't have to call it that if you don't want to."

"I don't."

"That's your call."

I sat there with my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and smelling his scent as he rubbed my back and shoulders. I was deeply unhappy right now, and just as deeply conflicted, but I felt safe here. Cared for. I'd always known he was there for me, since before we'd even gotten together, but since our talk a couple weeks ago I'd just felt so...secure. The way I used to feel with Alex, almost. We were getting there.

After a few minutes I asked him, "What would you do?"

Mat said in a patient voice, "Babe, you know what I would do. But that's me. I don't have all that hurt piled up to get through."

"That's what I don't want to deal with: getting through it."

"So make them do it." I grumbled, and he added, "I'm serious. I know it won't be easy, but there's no reason why reconciling can't be put on them. You can give them a chance and leave it at that. Sit there and listen. Tell them just how hard you had it. I think they should know that."

I mumbled, "Michael probably does."

Mat let out a long breath and I felt him nod. "Yeah, I bet he does."

Right. Mat had looked up my family. I thought that between my three brothers, Mike probably felt the shittiest, if only because he had some idea of what that summer had been like for me, and maybe also because he was the oldest of the four of us and had been a full-blown adult living on his own when I left home. I didn't doubt that Greg felt bad, in a general sort of way. That Brad seemed to feel so responsible was odd, even if we were the closest in age.

I texted Amanda and told her I was feeling a bit down and heading over to Mat's to spend the night, and as I gathered my things together she replied that she would probably be home late anyway and that she hoped I felt better and she would see me in the morning.

We closed everything up and we went next door, me still in my pajamas, a bag over my shoulder. I couldn't wait to not have to deal with this anymore. Just a little less than two weeks. I would be sad that Amanda was a thousand miles away again in Chicago, but I would have moving in with Mat to look forward to. I didn't want to move anything until Amanda was gone, and moving her things could wait until the loft was done.

Thankfully Carmensita was in her room when I went inside. I didn't want her to see that I'd been crying. I had nothing to be ashamed of, but I didn't want to burden her with my issues any more than I'd ever wanted to burden Amanda.

Three or four months ago, my family coming back into the picture might have put me into a bad state, but as it was I just felt sad and restless.


	32. Chapter 32

When I went home the next day Amanda was there, still sleeping, or her door was closed anyway. I eased her door open and peeked in and saw her snuggled into the covers, just the top of her head showing. My little girl. I loved her so much. When she woke up we talked about what had happened with my brother, and she apologetically admitted she had already looked up everything that I had and then some, and I told her that was okay, and told her that if she wanted to talk to my brothers that was her business. She didn't say she would, but I could tell she was thinking about it, especially once she heard that she had cousins close to her in age. We didn't mention my mother. All I could do in that regard was trust in Brad's promise and hope that before long it wouldn't be an issue. It was uncharitable of me, but it hardly compared to what the woman had put me through.

Amanda told me about her meetup with Pablo, and it seemed everything was fine there. She said he had been nice without overdoing it, and that once he wasn't trying so hard he had been easy to talk to. She said she felt bad that he'd been raised by a single mom who had struggled, while admitting that Pablo's mom had done all right by him. Apparently Pablo had gushed over Mat, over how much he looked up to him and how much Mat had done for him. It was a really sweet sentiment. I wouldn't say anything to Mat. That was Pablo's business. But god, what a great kid he was. I was glad that he and Amanda had finally struck up a friendship. She seemed willing to see him again on a friendly basis, and Pablo had been accepting of that, preferring to make a new friend over nothing. It was a very mature and healthy way of approaching things, beyond the fact that I was pleased that he was respecting my daughter.

On Friday I went out to get the mail, and in my slot was a key for the parcel compartment. A tremor of nerves went through me, thinking of what it might be. I'd been expecting a letter, but not this quickly, and I'd expected something small, folded into a regular-sized envelope, which would have fit perfectly well inside my slot.

I opened the compartment, and inside was a document envelope. It was one of those sort of stiff paperboard ones. I hesitated, staring at it, then took it out. I was afraid it would be addressed to Mitchell Coleman, but Brad had used Rivera. It was my legal name, after all. It always would be, even if I did marry Mat. No, when, not if. The return address was Brad Coleman, in Jamaica Plain. Wow. Either he made a hell of a lot of money, or he'd lived there forever. Or both.

I took the envelope inside, going back to my room where I was taking a break from work and doing some painting on my tablet. I searched the return address and did a street view, and… Christ on a cracker, his house was _beautiful_ , Colonial-style, white with black shutters, within walking distance of Jamaica Pond. There were photos of the inside, and...wow. Beam ceilings, lots of wainscoting, hardwood floors all over, white picket fence and roses in the front yard, but way too much wallpaper in way too many rooms, but maybe it no longer looked like that? The last sale date was back in 2001, before either of his kids had been born. Maybe he had bought it on his own and the title was completely in his name, and so it hadn't been subject to the terms of the divorce? I supposed it hardly mattered, and I was annoyed with myself for being curious about it.

I pulled the tab on the envelope, and inside were two regular envelopes paperclipped together. On top of those was a loose letter, on really nice paper. Printed out from a computer. It was from Brad.

_Mitchell,_

_I didn't intend to write you a letter, but when Mike and Greg handed me theirs I felt it was only right that I add one of my own._

_I'm sorry? Not that there's any question of that, more a question of whether you really want to hear it, or if it even means anything at this point. I can't go back and fix things. None of us can. The three of us let you down. You were our brother, our baby brother, and we were idiots and we let you down. Mom and Dad fucked you over, in more ways probably than the three of us are aware of, for the most asinine of reasons, and I can barely even stand to look at Mom now, knowing her part in it. I've always known Dad was a dick, we all did, but I can't understand her part in this, other than that Dad had her under his thumb. No excuse, obviously, no excuse at all. My ex and I are barely on speaking terms, but we both know without a doubt that either of us would do anything to protect and support our kids. What Mom did to you is completely indefensible._

_I'm not asking your forgiveness for the past, because I don't think any of us deserve it. I'd like it however if we could find some way to be a part of each other's lives, going forward, if you could bear that. If you can't, I understand and won't force the issue, but I very much hope that we can find some workable way to do that and get to know each other again. I won't speak for Greg and Mike, just myself, but I want to try to salvage something out of this. So much has been lost, and we can't get it back, but if we could try to get what we can out of this, it would mean a lot to me._

_Your brother,_

_Bradley_

Beneath his signature was what I assumed was his personal email address. I read the letter over, and over, and just...didn't feel much of anything at all. Sad. I was definitely sad, but only a little. I'd gotten a lot of it out Wednesday night. Still angry, but it was muted. I'd never stop being angry with my parents as long as I lived, but I was more hurt and upset over my brothers than anything. I'd assumed for so long that they hadn't cared what happened to me. It was always easier to assume no one cared. And maybe they hadn't cared enough, but it wasn't as if they hadn't cared at all.

I opened Greg's letter next, and wouldn't you know his was handwritten, beautifully so, in really neat, flowing script, with not one smudge or error. Had he typed it out first then hand copied it onto the paper? Why would anyone do that?

He just about prostrated himself, to the point that it was a little uncomfortable to read, and talked about his falling out with our father, and how they'd had a screaming match at the very last and he'd blamed Dad for driving me away and how he would never do that to his own daughter. The problems had started not long after Greg graduated from college and had started dating a girl whose father owned a grocery store in Cambridge, and she'd gotten him a job there, something our father had of course disapproved of. The relationship hadn't worked out in the end, the two of them breaking it off amicably during their engagement, but he'd gotten interested in the grocery business, and she never had been, and she had been more than happy to let him become the heir while she went off and did her own thing. He met another girl a few years later, they married, had kids, and when the store owner retired Greg had bought the business from him. And of course our father had vocally disapproved of the entire thing, including the choice of wife. Things had only deteriorated from there until the final fight nine years ago over Missy that had ended up also becoming a fight over me. He hadn't spoken to our father since, and only a couple times a month to our mother, who could only talk to him when Dad wasn't around. He had been cut out of our father's will just as I had been, and had no intention of fighting that.

That...hadn't even occurred to me. That there was an estate, one that was probably still being worked through. Of course I wouldn't get anything. Even if it had registered with me that our father had a will, it was a given I wasn't going to be left anything. I wouldn't when our mother died either. I had no expectations in that regard whatsoever. It would have been nice to get a little something for Amanda, but that was an impossibility.

Greg's letter ended the way Brad's had, asking for a chance to make things better from here on out. He put down his cell phone number, his home number, his work number, his email address and to top it all off his home address. Wow. He always had been a little more intense than the other two.

I went right into Michael's letter, and...god, it was painful. I was in tears halfway through as he castigated himself even worse than Greg had. Mike had handwritten his letter too, but it was clear that it had been written on the fly, with a lot of smudges and words crossed out, though his handwriting was good no matter the jokes people made about doctors. He talked about his charity work and how he never would have left me in that situation if he had known, even if he'd only started that about fifteen years ago, and how sorry he was that I hadn't felt I could trust any of my brothers enough to ask them for help, especially him. The level to which he beat himself up on paper was appalling. He wasn't wrong, but he took it so far that I had to set the letter down and put my face in my hands and fight to not start bawling.

So much could have been different. I wanted to blame myself for not asking for help, but I couldn't. I wouldn't have blamed the kid I used to be if he were someone else. Over and over I'd been taught, from much too young an age, that I couldn't rely on anyone, that I meant very little to anyone, that any attempts to reach out for attention or affection or help or anything would be rebuffed, that I could only depend on myself. It hadn't even occurred to me to ask any of my brothers for help. It hadn't occurred to me to ask anyone at all.

Mike didn't talk about his personal life any, didn't try to give me any background, just pleaded to make contact, apologized over and over and over again for the mistakes he had made, for anything I had been through, to the point where I was halfway ready to call him just to make sure he wasn't having some sort of breakdown. He wrote down his cell number and his office number, and gave me his home address, and pleaded to meet with me somewhere for coffee or something simple at first, whatever I wanted.

What did I want?

I sniffed back the tears that hadn't really fallen all that much and laid out the three letters, side by side. I was so overwhelmed right then. I folded my arms, my hand over my mouth, and couldn't form a coherent thought. I should take these to Mat. It was late in his day, past the slight lunch rush that always came between 11 and 1:00. Or maybe I should just let the letters sit and go to the gym, get my workout done early, see if exercise would clear my head. It would be the sensible thing to do.

Surprisingly enough, I did the sensible thing. There was snow on the ground, but the roads were drivable. Amanda wasn't home and Mat was probably busy, everyone else was at work, and I needed to get out of the house and away from those letters.

I headed to the gym and had it mostly to myself this time of day, except for a few people who seemed to always be there no matter what time I went. I spent the next hour and a half there, more time than I usually spent, and worked out harder than I usually did, but I wanted to make sure I was good and worn out and would just collapse into bed later and stay unconscious for at least eight hours. I didn't even listen to music as I usually did, just ran and lifted while I mulled over the letters and the phone call and my two interactions with Brad. Mulled over what to do. Tried to remember what we had all been like when we were young. Tried to figure out if doing what they wanted was worth the emotional effort it would take.

No matter what Mat said, no matter if I put everything on my brothers, made them do the heavy lifting, reconciling would be work on my part. It would _hurt_. Even if everything worked out and I was somehow integrated into the family again, I would always feel like an outsider. They had 30 years of memories that I had no part in making. Inside jokes. Little things that wouldn't even occur to them that would wound me. There was just no getting around that.

But...but I would have my family back. My parents could burn in hell, but my brothers' only crime had been neglect. Believing our parents. Taking the easy way out. I was sure that they meant what they had written in their letters. I knew Brad did. I was fairly good at reading people, judging their character, and his reactions the two times I'd seen him had seemed very genuine. Mat was good at reading people too, for all his claims of being anti-social, and he had been sympathetic towards Brad.

I just didn't know if I was strong enough to go through with this. Getting back in touch with my brothers. After the last hour and a half of soul-searching I had to admit that...yes. Yes, I wanted to. I wanted what Brad wanted: to salvage something out of the shitty mess that our parents had created. My brothers were reaching out, and they didn't have to. Brad _kept_ reaching out. I just didn't know if it was worth it.

After showering and dressing, I headed back home. I didn't want to run into Mat at the gym, though of course I always loved seeing him. He and Carmensita had their routine and I didn't want to interfere with that.

Amanda still wasn't home when I got there, and I fixed myself a healthy snack and went back to my desk. I forced myself to read the letters again, and the impact was a little less this time. I didn't cry this time, anyway. Then I spent a few minutes programming all their contact information into my phone. Email, home addresses...all of it. There. It was there if I wanted it. I put the letters back in their envelopes then put the entire thing under one of my pillows where I couldn't see it, then went back to work.

It was my turn to make dinner, and Amanda came home just as I was starting it. "Hey Panda," I said in greeting.

"Hi Pop," she said brightly, tossing her bag on the floor next to the stools. "Need help?"

"That would be great, but...could you do something for me first?"

She stood to attention and saluted. "Can and will."

"Under my left pillow in my room is an envelope. If you go get it, it has some letters. From my brothers." Her big brown eyes grew even bigger as her hand slowly came down. I nibbled at my lip then said, "You can read them, if you want. Maybe...tell me what you think?"

"Yeah," she whispered. She stared at me a moment longer then hurried away to get the envelope. She quickly returned, looking at the name and address on front. "Wow, Jamaica Plain. Must be rough."

"Yeah. I looked up his house. Pretty fancy." I hadn't looked up Greg's or Mike's. Maybe I would later tonight.

She made a sound of disinterest and looked at me for permission, and when I nodded she took out Brad's letter first and read it. I saw her brow crinkle as she read, then she took out the other two envelopes.

I warned her, "Those ones are...um, harder, honey. To get through. You can put them off until later if you want."

Amanda licked her lips as she debated it, then she shook her head. "No," she murmured. "That's okay."

I nodded and went back to starting dinner. She knew where the tissues were, if she needed them. But if she needed them, I would need them. I couldn't help crying when she cried. It had been that way since the day we took her home. I couldn't count how many times Amanda and I had both been crying and Alex had comforted us, or sighed _oh you two, my poor babies_ with affectionate exasperation.

She sat down on one of the stools and pulled out one of the letters. "Wow," she said in admiration. "His handwriting is _amazing_."

"It is," I agreed. It must be Greg's letter she was reading first.

She was silent for a little while, and I left her to it, then I heard a soft, "Oh. Oh jeez."

I glanced at her and her expression had fallen, but she wasn't crying. She went right into Mike's letter, and that was when I saw her eyes start to get shiny and wet. I set the knife down on the cutting board, readying myself to leap in and comfort her.

"Oh Pop," she whispered. She laid the letters out side-by-side as I had done earlier and just looked at them, a heartbroken look on her face. She didn't take her eyes off them as she asked, "Are you...okay? With all this?"

"Okay in that I'm not falling apart, yes. Okay in that I'm going to do what they want...I don't know yet. I really don't."

She frowned at me. "Don't you want to? Get to know them again?"

"Yes, but…" I made a sound of apprehension. "It's going to be painful, honey. And a lot of work. Frankly I don't know if it's worth it."

At that Amanda fixed me with a look of almost anger. "What do you mean, you don't know? You'd have your family back!" When my lips pursed obstinately she added, " _I_ would have family! It isn't just about you, you know!" My mouth fell open. "This is your _real_ family. I'd have uncles and aunts and cousins, and… and maybe I could contact everyone on my own, but it isn't the same, and you know it isn't! I never wanted to look up my birth family, not even _once_ have I seriously thought about it, but this...this is _unfair_. It's unfair that you have a choice and I don't!"

My chin trembled as I made a gurgling, whimpering sound that was pathetic and undadlike and…

Amanda cried, "I'm sorry, but it isn't fair! You wanted to know what I think, and that's what I think!"

I swallowed and looked away from her, trying with all my might not to start crying, or get angry. It wasn't as if I didn't understand her point of view. She was right: this wasn't all about me. But I was the one who would have to work through 30, 40 years of pain with my brothers, not her. "You think I'm being selfish?" I asked her in a rough voice. "It's selfish of me to have doubts about getting to know the people who basically abandoned me, is that it? I should just get over it? Forget about the nights I slept in the park because the shelters were full, when I could sleep, or the constant worry about being assaulted, or stabbed and robbed, because none of my brothers could be bothered to look for me?"

She whispered, "Daddy, I...I just…"

"I never told your dad how I spent that summer, and I've never told Mat either, but I told Craig, and even if I showed Craig those letters he'd still tell me to tell them to fuck off. They believed our parents because they were busy with their own lives and it was easy. And I didn't ask any of them for help, didn't ask _anyone_ for help, not even my friends, because I 100% believed that no one would help me. They waited 30 goddamn years to look me up, and only because our mother told Brad to _fetch_ me, and she only did so because our father was dead. At any point they could have looked for me, and Mike made _one_ half-assed attempt six years after I was gone. Do they feel bad? Yes, I'm certain that they feel like shit about all this, but it doesn't change the fact that none of them cared enough about me to go looking, no matter what they believed. Do I think our parents deliberately made it so that I was the odd kid out and never was that close to any of them? Yes to that too, but that doesn't change anything either."

Amanda was silent other than the sound of her breathing, nervous and uneven. I was sure that this wasn't what she'd wanted, or bargained for. But even if I was angry and upset about this, she still had a point: this was her family too, and I had the 'in'. I would do anything for my daughter, no matter how painful it was, and that included this. I drew in a deep breath and blew it out. "If you really want me to, I'll contact them," I offered, "and start the process of--"

"God, Dad!" She burst into tears.

"Shit," I sighed, and I went over to her and wrapped my arms around her. She burrowed her face into my chest and I stroked her hair and said, "I don't want to upset you honey--"

"Well I'm upset!"

"So am I, but you have to understand what it's going to do to me to have any part in the family again. And it isn't as if I don't want to at all. I've been thinking about it all afternoon. Some part of me does want to have brothers again, but I won't be getting back what I lost, and I don't know that I'm ever going to be able to trust them. I believe that they're sincere, but I don't see how I'll ever be able to feel like I can rely on them. There's hurt feelings, and then there's being _wounded_ , like you told me the other day, and my family wounded me to a point that I'm never going to fully recover from. My brain is wired to not trust them, to not trust anyone all that easily, so I'm going to go ahead and do what they want, but they're never going to get all of me. The only people who get that are you, Mat and Craig." Damien, Hugo and Robert were close seconds, but they didn't try to shine too bright a light on the ugly spaces. They would listen if I ever wanted to talk, I trusted that much, but it wasn't the same as it was with Craig, who I'd known since I was 20 and been through a lot with, and Mat, who was my partner and who had been the one other person here who had tried to get inside my boundaries.

"I don't want it hurting you," she moaned. "I didn't realize it had been like that. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I was trying to keep it from touching you. It was awful honey, and yet it still wasn't as bad as some kids had it. Some kids ran away from home and chose living on the street over what they were enduring at home, it was that bad. I never dealt with that. I was never physically abused. My parents rarely even spanked any of us, oddly enough. But I could've gotten over being hit better than what they did."

"I want you to tell me."

"Nope. Not going to happen. It won't do you any good to hate dead people. There's no point in you knowing." I kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, sweetie pie," I murmured sorrowfully. "You ended up stuck with the screwed up dad instead of the strong one. I'm never going to be entirely okay. This is something I'm going to struggle with the rest of my life, no matter how happy I am with Mat."

Amanda whispered, "Well I do hate them."

I sighed heavily. "Me too." It hurt hearing those words from my daughter. She'd never hated anyone in her life. But like it or not, some people deserved it.

We held each other for a while, then I had to get dinner started. We put the letters in the envelope for Mat to read later then Amanda helped me in the kitchen. She was subdued, not her usual bubbly self, seeming deep in thought, but we talked things out more. I tried to get her to understand in the gentlest terms possible that we had to keep our expectations low. She wasn't naive, but she was mostly unspoiled by my pessimism, and god did I hate having to be the pragmatic one in this, but I had to protect her. I'd always protected her, but protecting her from hurt feelings was harder than just about anything else.

Mat and Carmensita arrived twenty minutes later, and the four of us sat in the living room and played a board game while we ate. I was so looking forward to having a proper table to eat at again. It would be nice to have our friends over, the way Alex and I used to. Maybe I was introverted, but I did like spending time with everyone.

The girls retreated next door at 7:30 to look at the loft and make some more plans, and once they were gone I handed the envelope to Mat.

He looked at the address on the envelope then peeked inside and said in shock, "No way!"

I grunted and nodded. He pulled out all three and after looking at me for permission read them, starting with Brad's. I sipped some herbal tea and watched the range of emotions that went over his face, mostly sadness, occasional surprise.

"Wow," he whispered. He scanned them again and kept his eyes on them as he asked, "So uh… what are you thinking about doing?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "I'm going to do what they want."

Mat's hands lowered to his lap. "Yeah, but what do you want?"

"That's realistic? Or even possible?" I blew out a tired breath. "I know it's going to hurt, but… I think I want this. Not as much as they do. Not anywhere as much as they do. And Amanda… she really wants this. I hadn't realized how much. She got upset with me earlier over my, um, ambivalence. She wants cousins and aunts and uncles. I tried to tell her not to get her hopes up. I'm so scared that she's going to end up hurt." I was used to hurt, and disappointment. It was the story of my life.

I knew I was being melodramatic, I really did, but I was just one of those people who always seemed to see the negative in things, and the idea of meeting my brothers again had a certain feeling of sick inevitability, like watching a train rolling full steam towards a gap in the tracks, or watching a toddler running down a sidewalk and knowing they were going to trip and smack their head on the pavement. I just knew that my brothers were going to let me down.

I was still going to do this, though. I was going to take the bullet for my daughter. It wasn't just for her, I knew that, but if left to my own devices I would have been much more tempted to just let it go. Write them back and tell them thanks but no thanks.

Mat set the letters and envelope on the coffee table then took the mug from my hands and set that down as well. He took my hand and kissed it then gave it a tug, and we scooched close together on the couch. He was going to pull me into his arms, but I beat him to it, kissing him all over one side of his face until he started laughing, then I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a squeeze.

"Hey!" he laughed. He relaxed into it though. He rubbed my arms and said, "I'm glad you're doing this, babe."

"Smooching and hugging you?" I'd been a lot better lately about being comfortable with showing him the kind of overboard affection that I used to show Alex. It never seemed to bother Mat, in fact he just about glowed every time, which only encouraged me to do it more.

Mat laughed again. "Yeah, that too."

I squeezed him again and kissed his temple. "I'll email them tomorrow," I promised. "I'll start with Brad, as far as meeting up. I think I can manage that best, at first." I'd have to save Michael for last. I think that was the one that would hurt the most. I felt pretty neutral about Greg. He at least had stuck to his guns with our father and cut him out of his life, had lived his life the way he chose. Michael though… I wasn't going to hold his hand and help him work through his guilt. No goddamn way. It helped to know that he had asked our mother about me a number of times over the years, and had hired someone to find me and make sure I was okay, or alive at least, but none of that had helped me at the time.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe that's the way to go."

"Did you, um, want to go out in the garage and look at some of the stuff I've got stored out there? To see what'll work in your house?"

" _Our_ house," he corrected.

I made a sound of agreement, even if I didn't totally agree. Someday it would feel like mine, and I'd wonder how I had ever felt any different, but that day was a long way off. After being home with Amanda for the last month, this place really felt like home again, and the idea of her going back to school was awful, no matter how much I wanted to move on with my life, by moving in with Mat. Life with Mat was going to be wonderful, and I knew I would be happy, that he was going to make me happy, because he already did and living together would be that one step better. I was going to miss Amanda though, and I was going to miss this little house, even if I was going to live next door to it the rest of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to make it understood that what Mitchell is choosing to do in this story is what his particular character would do, not something I would expect anyone else to choose. It isn't even something I would choose for myself. Just wanted to head off any misunderstandings in that regard. I would totally support anyone who decided that reconciling was not for them.


	33. Chapter 33

_ I got the letters. Thank you for sending them. I've put a lot of thought into what the three of you said, and I'm (cautiously) willing to see if we can work things out. _

_ But I'm going to be honest and say that I don't think I'm ever going to stop feeling the way I've felt the last 30 years. I don't think I can. I can't forgive you three. I don't have it in me. But I'm willing to start working towards moving past it. I'm doing this partly for my daughter. She wants to be part of an extended family. I tried to tell her to not get her hopes up, because I don't want her getting hurt. This is going to hurt me, but I'm used to that, and she isn't, and I don't want anyone in the family getting in touch with her that isn't willing to take her in 100%. She wants cousins and uncles and aunts, and anyone who isn't willing to step up and fill that role needs to be honest with her and keep their distance. She's a happy, optimistic kid who only sees the good in people, and I'd like her to stay that way. _

Wow, maybe that was too harsh. Was it too harsh? I reread my email, then decided to leave it. I was going to be a bit harsh right off the bat. Better to be heavy-handed right out of the gate and ease off later. I wanted my brothers to have their guard up. I wanted them to know without question that I was still very resentful and that they were now starting a very long period of probation.

The email was one of epic novel length, but I wanted to do it this way. I laid out in detail exactly what our parents had done to me from third grade on. I told them every single nasty thing our father had said to me, not only when he threw me out but all of it, and how our mother had turned a cold shoulder to me so abruptly, and what that had done to me. I told them in detail how I had been thrown out, and how that had felt, and where I had gone, and how I had spent the summer, until I had gotten into a program that September that had given me permanent housing, and how I had started college and gotten a part-time job, and things had started looking up, for the most part.

I then told them about Craig moving into the dorm with me, and what a great friend he had been, and how we were still friends, and oddly enough neighbors now, after reconnecting. I told them what Craig had done for me back in college, providing a shoulder to cry on and getting my introverted ass out to do things. I told them how I met Alex, at a party Craig had dragged me to, after we had graduated from college. I wrote about moving in together, and buying the townhouse together a few years later, then adopting Amanda, then getting married as soon as we legally could.

I didn't write much about our time together, other than that we had been very happy, the three of us, or as happy as I could be, and how I had spent several years in therapy and was still struggling a bit from time to time. I told them how Alex had died, or been killed rather, and how traumatic that was for me, and devastating to Amanda, and how it still affected me and how long it had taken me to get anywhere close to normal, and even then that was only because of Mat.

_ Mat _ . I wrote about moving to this neighborhood last April, and the great guys that lived here, but mostly I wrote about Mat, and how he had been there for me, and how we'd tried to support each other even as friends before we started dating, and how close our daughters had gotten, and how we were moving in together before the end of the month, and getting a cat or two, and how we'd talked about maybe getting married someday, and how we hoped his parents would move into my house but that we worried they wouldn't.

I finished off by giving them the link to my public photo folders, while hoping that they never gave me a link to anything of the sort on their end. I would feel compelled to look, and I already knew that I would find it upsetting. I would see 30-plus years of warm and fuzzy family memories that I hadn't been part of, and possibly photos of our parents. But they could see whatever they wanted of my life. I wanted them to see what I had made of myself without their help. I wanted them to see what I'd had in Alex, and what I'd lost. Maybe I was even hoping to hurt them a little bit with it. They'd live.

There. I read it over a few more times, fixed some typos, made a few tweaks, then sent it off. Let the chips fall where they may. It had been surprisingly cathartic, writing all that out. If nothing else, it had been good for that.

When Amanda woke up we had a leisurely breakfast, since this was our last weekend together before she went back to school. The four of us were going up to Boston next Friday afternoon to stay with Gabby and Luis, then taking Amanda to the airport Saturday night, but today I selfishly wanted my daughter to myself. Mat understood, and said he had things he could do on his own with Carmensita. I could very faintly hear the sound of drums coming from his garage. They were loud.

I loved Mat's daughter, I really did, but why oh why couldn't she have wanted to learn guitar? Or the piano? I was pretty sure that Mat's mom had shown her a bit, but she was dead set on learning to play the drums, and so she would.

I told Amanda I'd sent the email, and gave her the gist of it, mostly. I hadn't gotten any responses yet, but I had given my brothers a lot to digest. Amanda was glad that I had sent it, and I asked her to wait to contact anyone until I had met with all three of them and gotten a better feel for things, and she agreed. I could tell she was eager, but god I was scared for her. The idea of her getting hurt by anyone in my messed up family terrified me.

Amanda was gone that night, spending it with a friend, not an Emma, though the odds dictated that at least one Emma would probably be there, so that freed me up to go to Mat's for the night. I had spent Wednesday night there, but I'd been sad. I felt okay today, and was looking forward to spending some quality time with my guy.

As I was packing a bag to take over I heard my phone ping.

_ MAT: hey babe sorry for the short notice but yeah we've got a house full of girls tonight Carmen wanted her friend Sydney to come over then Addison wanted to come too and then Olivia found out so yeah it'll be a full sleepover four girls so if you want to stay at your place tonight I wouldn't blame you _

The poor guy. The run-on speech-to-text was always a sure sign that he was feeling a bit wound up or on edge.

_ ME: As if I would abandon my beloved to the tender mercies of tween girls. You wound me, sir. _

_ MAT: :) I love you! Like so much right now _

_ ME: I'll be over in a minute! I love you too! _

God, he was so sweet. He had also clearly forgotten that I was Master Dad level in sleepovers. A consummate professional.

When I got to his house his relief was obvious. He could handle it, of course, but if I could help in any way I would, even if it was just by being there and providing adult conversation and company. We asked Carmensita what she and her friends wanted for dinner and breakfast, left her to set up the loft for the event, then ran to the store together for supplies.

It was a fun night. It brought back so many great memories of Amanda and her friends. I texted her and told her so, and she replied with lots of hearts.

The girls retreated to the loft around 9:30, and while it didn't cut down much on the noise, it at least put it at a bit of a distance. Mat and I settled on the couch with beers...just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I offered with a sigh, and was up off the couch before Mat could protest. I was closest anyway.

It was Robert. I didn't think Robert had ever come over here as long as I'd known Mat, at least he never had that Mat had mentioned. He didn't have his dog Betsy with him, but it was freezing out.

"Hey Rob," I said in greeting. "Want to come in? Have a beer?"

Robert looked up at the loft and what was going on up there then narrowed his eyes at me. "Nice try, Rivera," he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile there. He did step inside though so I could close the door and keep the cold out. He nodded to Mat. "Sella."

"Hey Robert," Mat replied, saluting him with a beer. "Sure you won't have one?"

"Nah. Just came from Jim and Kim's. I'm good. Thanks." He turned back to me, fixing me with an intense gaze as he pulled something out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

You just never knew with Robert what was going to come out of that jacket. Could be a switchblade. Could be a flask. Could be a puppy. You just never knew. 

Out came a folded up flyer, and he handed it to me like he was handing me an original copy of the Magna Carta.

It was better than that.

My hands trembled as I read. "Oh. My. God." I lifted my eyes to his, my own wide. "Oh my god!" I cried. Screeched, maybe.

Robert slowly nodded, his expression grave. "Yeah. Thought you might be interested."

I clutched the flyer to my chest, hearing Mat get up off the couch behind me. I whispered, "It's our time, Robert. Our time has come."

"It has," he agreed, still nodding. "You and me, Rivera. Ride or die."

A note of concern in his voice, Mat came over and asked, "What the--" He glanced up at the loft and lowered his voice. "Hell are you two talking about?"

I held out the flyer in both hands as Robert slung an arm around my shoulders. He smelled a bit like white wine, but he seemed sober. Mat took the bright goldenrod paper from me and read it, then his hands fell to his sides as he fixed us both with a look of pure exasperation.

"Really? You two had me worried over this?"

Robert snatched the flyer from him. " _ This _ ," he stressed, shaking it at him, "is something Maple Bay has awaited since the day of its founding."

'This' was an announcement that Jim and Kim's was going to start having karaoke. _Karaoke_ : one of my greatest loves. Here, in Maple Bay. Within walking distance of my house. Every Tuesday and Thursday night at 9pm. And what was more, they were kicking it off with an _80s_ _karaoke battle_. 1980s. Karaoke. Battle. On the second Friday in February, in just a few short weeks. There would be two categories: singles and duos. The solo winner by votes would pocket $250; the duo would split $500. And it was being hosted by none other than Maple Bay's own Spinmaster Quinn.

"They had karaoke in the 1600s?" Mat asked in a tone of deep skepticism.

"They did, but if you were caught performing it, it was punishable by death. Burning at the stake. It was considered a form of witchcraft. Thank god times have changed."

Mat looked at Robert over the tops of his glasses with an expression of extreme forbearance, then his gaze shifted to me and it softened and he let out a short laugh as he shook his head. "Ride or die, huh," he said in amusement. "You guys gonna do Wonderwall or something?"

"That is so unworthy of you," I said in a hurt tone, making Mat laugh.

Robert stated, "I know exactly what we're going to do. I've just got to know if my partner here has the pipes for it."

Mat said, "If you ever came to open mic night you'd know what kind of pipes he has."

He rolled his eyes. "Not that folksy shit.  _ Real  _ singing: 80s power ballads." Mat squinted at him, not dignifying that with a comment. Robert stuffed the flyer back into my hand and said, "We need to come up with a team name so we can get registered."

I immediately said, "McSturgiss & Loomis."

At that Robert cracked up, genuine laughter. I didn't think I'd ever heard him laugh so hard. "Hell yeah!" he said in delight. He slapped my chest. "We're going to do this."

"We are absolutely going to do this my friend, and woe to anyone who stands in our way."

Robert yanked me into a bear hug, and as I patted him on the back I heard Mat sigh.

Our neighbor took his leave, and as Mat locked the door he said, "Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something? Are you McSturgiss or Loomis?" I chuckled and read the flyer again, and Mat put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek. "No babe, really."

"I'm Loomis.  _ Doctor  _ Loomis, to be exact."

Mat looked confused. "Isn't that the guy from...yeah, you know what, never mind. I'm just glad you two are happy."

"Aw, thanks honey." I gave him a kiss on the lips then we returned to the couch, the flyer still clutched in my hand. I barely sat down before I had a text from Robert. It was his song idea, and… hell to the yes. A true karaoke classic, and a guaranteed crowd pleaser. There was no way we wouldn't win.

_ ROBERT: So what d'you think can you do the backup vocals _

_ ME: I think victory will be ours. Nay, I know it shall be _

Robert texted me several thumbs up and a grinning emoji.

_ ME: We need to do the entire 7 minutes though if they've got it _

_ ROBERT: oooh ambitious i like that in a man _

I snorted then cackled a bit.

_ ROBERT: I'm signing us up right now _

_ ME: Perfect _

_ ROBERT: You doing a solo? _

Was I? I would sing at the drop of a hat, and it was going to be close to impossible to keep me from going to the bar after this, but wouldn't it be overkill to do both the solo competition and the duos?

_ ROBERT: Don't chicken out on me rivera _

_ ROBERT: bawk bawk bawk _

Hm. I narrowed my eyes at my phone.

_ ME: Are yooooou? _

_ ROBERT: yeah I am and no I'm not telling you what it is _

_ ME: Well maybe I won't tell you mine either _

_ ROBERT: Fine don't tell me _

_ ME: FINE I WON'T _

_ ROBERT: lol _

I texted him back a smiley face, then I looked at the flyer and went to the website to sign up as a solo performer, and put down the song I wanted to do. Yes. I was going with a song I had done half a dozen times with some success while I was with Alex. Luckily I had a pretty good upper range. My speaking voice wasn't deep.

Mat leaned against me and said with a smile in his voice, "You're really excited about this, aren't you? It's so cute."

"I am. Excited I mean."

"And you're cute."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"You're not an objective party."

"I don't have to be."

I laughed and let my phone fall onto the couch next to me then mock tackled him onto his side, making him  _ oof  _ in surprise then start giggling. I moved to kiss him then whispered, "Shit, the girls."

"Oh shit," Mat whispered back, eyes wide. 

We quickly sat up, but Carmensita and her friends were still doing whatever they were doing, talking animatedly, nowhere near the railing. "Sorry," I murmured.

"I'm not," he said with warmth. His eyes wandered over my face then lingered on my mouth for a bit before moving back up. "You know, I really liked that. Like... _ really _ liked that." His voice was a little rough. Husky.

A little shiver went through me. "Did you," I whispered.

"Oh yeah." Mat licked his lip and glanced up at the loft then back to me. "We could uh...run next door for a bit. You know, you forgot your laptop and tablet, right? And we still need to figure out what furniture you're moving over."

"This is true." Oh god, this was not at all what I had intended. I had just been playing around. Mat liked it when I was playful, something that was coming more easily to me as time went on. I hadn't been trying to start anything, really, I hadn't been, but it seemed I unwittingly had. I couldn't regret it, either. I wasn't in the mood, but I didn't mind getting there.

Mat called up to the girls that we were going next door for a bit to grab a few things and look at my furniture, and Carmensita replied with disinterest and went right on with what she was doing. Then he grabbed his keys and my hand and just about yanked me out of the house.

I quickly scanned the cul-de-sac and hoped to god that no one was watching, because I didn't see how we could possibly make it more obvious that we were going next door for a quickie. I realized as we were crossing from one lawn to the next that we had forgotten our phones.

_ Forget the damn phone! You don't always have to be tethered to your phone! _

And Mat needed me. It was more than a little surprising that being pounced on had turned him on that much, but I supposed we were still learning about each other, and after what he had asked me for a few weeks ago maybe I shouldn't be so surprised.

We got inside and shut the door and locked it, and Mat kept hold of my hand and pulled me towards then inside my bedroom, then for good measure locked that door too. He took his glasses off and set them on the side table and turned on the little lamp there then looked at me with a pleading expression and said, "I really, um...could you just sort of...maybe…" He swallowed. "Maybe push me against the door a little, 'cause I think I'd really um, like that."

Oh wow. This was...this was really different. From how things usually went. It wasn't that Mat was usually the...aggressor. God, I really didn't like that word. He was sweet and gentle in bed, more than willing to please me but soft and pliant in ways I wasn't, but he'd never asked me to… to, god,  _ manhandle  _ him. But he was asking, and I would do anything for him, and this wasn't much to ask.

I tried. I wasn't really sure how to go about doing what he wanted, wasn't even sure that I understood exactly what he did want, but I tried. I nodded and kissed him, and he responded eagerly, grabbing the sides of my shirt.

_ Here goes nothing. _

I grabbed Mat by the wrists and pulled his hands away as I backed him against the door, not hard at all, but when his back hit the door he let out a soft whimper. "Good?" I murmured. He made a sound of affirmation. Okay. All right. This wasn't really doing much for me, because I was thinking too damn hard about it and what I was supposed to be doing, but it seemed to be doing a whole hell of a lot for Mat, the way he was breathing. I experimentally lifted one of his arms by the wrist and pinned it by his head and his breath rushed out of him.

Wow. I... _ really _ had no idea at all that he would be into this. The few times that Alex and I had tried anything like this one or both of us had started snickering and it never went anywhere. That just wasn't a zone either of us could ever get into. We had both sort of always taken turns and neither had really been what we considered in charge in the bedroom, other than Alex taking the lead early on when I was utterly clueless about everything, but it was becoming pretty clear that wasn't going to always hold true with Mat.

I lifted his arm higher then pinned the other one over his head and I felt his knees give the tiniest bit as he whimpered again. Amazing.

I somehow managed to fake my way through, well, no, I wasn't faking it, I was...improvising, yes, because I honestly had very little idea of what I was doing, but I was good at paying attention, reading people's moods, especially a partner's mood, and I thought I was doing all right. Mat's reactions were gratifying, flattering, and it ended with both his wrists over his head in one of my hands while he spilled into the other, panting and pleading. Loudly.

No, this was not something that was ever going to take place with a daughter in the house. Absolutely not.

I gently took his hands down and kissed his cheek, not knowing what to expect next. This really hadn't been my thing, at all, but Mat had obviously enjoyed it. A lot. I let go of him to grab an old undershirt out of a drawer to wipe off my hand, then him, and watched his face for a reaction. He barely cracked open his eyes and gave me a sleepy smile, leaning bonelessly against the door, looking about ready to keel over. I let the shirt fall to the ground then straightened him up, tucking everything away and fastening his pants. "Was...that all right?" I asked.

"Mm-hm." He drew in a long breath then slowly let it out. "Yeah."

"Oh. Um, good." Mat was blushing, and his smile turned bashful as he adjusted things down there and fastened his belt. I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, longer this time, then stroked the other one. I hoped he wasn't embarrassed. He met my eyes, and god he was the sweetest, his expression so melty and adorable. I rubbed my nose against his and murmured, "I love you."

"Love you too," he whispered. "Can we sit down for a minute?"

"Oh! Yes!" Did he want to talk about this? I didn't really know what to say. Then I saw him stand away from the door on rubbery legs, and the problem became apparent. Not that it was a problem, really. He took the few steps over to my bed and sat down, and I knelt at his feet and started rubbing his legs. I saw him frown briefly, but when I smiled at him it faded and he gave in without any protest. I lowered my eyes, feeling myself turning pink, the way he was staring at me too much to handle right then. After a minute I felt his hand come to rest on the back of my head to rub it lightly. I felt like I  _ had  _ to say something. I didn't mind silence, and sitting quietly, but the silence felt sort of loaded at the moment. I asked him, "Do you want to hear the story about the famed paranormal investigators Daniel McSturgiss and Dr. Loomis, and how your coffee shop is the most haunted spot in Maple Bay?"

Mat was silent for a moment then he laughed a little. "Get out. Where did that come from?"

As I rubbed his legs and he petted my hair, I told him about the night back in early June last year when Robert, Mary and I had crashed the ghost tour, though I didn't tell him how that night had ended. He laughed in several spots, and when I told him about how Robert had told everyone that Mat was slowly being driven mad he cracked up and pulled me up off the floor to sit next to him.

"Man, you two are crazy," Mat said in amusement. "And now you're going to do a duet together?"

"Yeah, it's going to be so much fun." I gently pulled on his shoulder, and he went with me to lay back on my bed. He was lying right in the center of the Mariner's Star, and it was like a halo. He was so perfect.

"What are you guys going to sing?"

I shook my head as I sat up on my elbow to look down at him. "Oh no. Top secret."

Mat chuckled. "Have it your way, babe."

"I'm also doing a solo."

His eyes lit up. "Really? You know, we never did get out on any of our trips to Boston."

"Now we won't have to. We'll be able to do it every week if we want. Or I want. Twice a week, even." Mat was just never going to sing karaoke, and I didn't expect him to. I clenched my fist and vowed, "I will wear my VACANT VEIL tee shirt for the contest, as the knights of old wore the favors of their beloveds onto the field of battle."

Mat laughed in delight. "You'd better!" He grabbed my fist and held it to his chest. "Aw man, this is exciting. I'll finally get to see you belting it out."

I shrugged one shoulder, a little embarrassed. "I don't know if I'll be belting it out, really."

"Ska, maybe?"

I barked out a laugh and lightly poked him in the ribs. "The Skammunist Manifesto died long ago. I'm not reanimating that corpse."

We chatted a few minutes longer then decided we needed to get back to the girls. Mat seemed recovered, and we lingered a bit gathering up my laptop and tablet, then went ahead and made a detour to the garage.

Mat looked over the things in there and said, "Yeah, I think I like your dining set better."

"It's a little bigger." Mat's was round and only seated four people; mine was rectangular and seated six. There was room for it.

"We can move it over tomorrow. We've got plenty of girls who can carry chairs. And we can take over that lamp now if you want."

"Yes." I made a sound of happiness and reached for Mat, and he moved into my arms. "I love you soooo much," I cooed. I was gross when I was happy, but Alex had loved it, and I hoped Mat would too. I was just so happy right now.

"Aw babe," he said warmly, squeezing me. "I love you too. Like crazy."

We hugged for a while then we grabbed the lamp and took it over. I couldn't wait to move the other stuff too. It would start feeling  _ real _ , after that.

We put the lamp on my side of the bed, and it looked nice there. We put on our pajamas then made popcorn for the girls and turned on a movie for them with a request for at least a small amount of quiet, then we retreated back to the bedroom to go to bed. I wasn't quite ready and planned to sit up for a while playing a game, but Mat was sleepy, and I was sure that once I got comfy I wouldn't be far behind.

Once we were in bed I settled against the headboard with a couple pillows and finally looked at my phone again, seeing the notification light was on. Mat turned off the light then snuggled up against my side. I rubbed his back and saw that I'd gotten a text, and when I opened the app I saw it was from Brad.

Mat put his arm over me and said, "So, earlier...it was...I mean, I really liked that but you know it was just kind of something I was in the mood for...right?"

I looked down in surprise and saw Mat staring up at me. I realized I had been frowning at my phone, and I smoothed out my expression. "Of course," I replied.

"I know you weren't uh, into it--"

"I don't have to be, but it didn't bother me at all either." That Mat hadn't tried to get me off afterward had been a very glaring sign that he had known I wasn't into it. I brushed his hair back from his face and softly said, "I would do anything for you." I'd said it before and I would say it again.

He stared up at me, his face barely lit up by my phone, and whispered, "I knew you would."

"Absolutely. Always."

"Yeah." He sounded a little choked up, and he let out a pained sigh and tightened his grip on me then burrowed his face into my side.

I clucked my tongue and set my phone aside then slid down to face him, kissing him then tucking his head under my chin so that I could hold him. "Everything okay?" I murmured. He made a squeaky sort of sound and nodded. He didn't seem like he was crying or anything, just feeling emotional. I understood that feeling all too well. It meant everything to me that he was able to be this vulnerable with me. He'd never had anywhere near as much trouble in that regard as me, though.

I petted and cuddled him until he fell asleep, something that didn't take long, and when he rolled away from me with a snuffling snort I knew he was out for the count. I moved carefully so as not to shake the bed and sat back up against the backboard and picked up my phone. The text had been sent maybe twenty minutes ago, but I had my phone on Do Not Disturb after 8:00, with Amanda, Mat and Carmensita the only exceptions. Everyone could reach me by trying three times in fifteen minutes, but so far no one had ever had to do so.

_ BRAD: Thank you for the email. We all read it and decided not to reply right away, so please don't take our silence on it for anything but us taking time to consider everything you said. _

_ BRAD: We appreciate the time you took to explain everything. _

It was late, but maybe he was still up. I hoped if he wasn't that my text didn't wake him up.

_ ME: It was easier that way. There's no point in hashing it all out three different times. _

I nearly apologized for being too aggressive in the email, but no. No apologies.

Brad was clearly awake as he responded right away.

_ BRAD: I'm sorry about Alex. If you don't want to hear that then tell me to shut the fuck up. _

Ouch _. _

_ ME: No it's all right _

_ BRAD: I looked through a lot of the photos. Thank you for those. It looks like you guys were happy. _

_ ME: We were very happy. He was good to me. Patient. I still miss him every day, even with Mat. _

Man, it hurt to type those words. But I wasn't going to pull any punches with any of my brothers. I hated confrontation, and that wasn't what this was, but I was going to be brutally honest with them from the get-go.

_ BRAD: Mat seems like a really nice guy. I looked him up, I hope that was okay. He's very talented. _

_ ME: Yes, he's very kind, and yes, he's very talented. His wife died a while back, ten years ago in May. Cancer. He's been raising Carmen alone, running his coffee shop alone... He's amazing. _

_ BRAD: Sounds like it. I'm glad for you guys. _

I didn't know what else to say. Maybe I should leave it at that. I waited for Brad to send something else. Extend another olive branch. Maybe he didn't want to push. Maybe he wanted to leave things up to me. I'd sent the email though. What more did they want from me? No matter how cathartic it had been to write it, it had still taken a lot out of me emotionally.

_ BRAD: Is Amanda going back to school soon? _

Ah.

_ ME: She's flying back to Chicago next weekend. Next Saturday night. _

_ BRAD: Out of Logan? _

_ ME: Yeah, flight leaves at 4:32 _

He didn't respond for a while, and I thought that was the end of it. Maybe he fell asleep? We were in the same time zone, but it was a bit late.

I gave up waiting and started a game on my phone, one of those simple matching games that didn't require a lot of brainpower, but occupied just enough of my attention to keep me from thinking too hard about anything else. I was starting to get sleepy. The gentle sound of Mat's breathing was so soothing.

Ten minutes later I was finally starting to fight to keep my eyes open, and I rearranged the pillows and laid down. I was just getting ready to turn on the white noise app when a text came through.

_ BRAD: I pick up the kids again the night before. If you're interested, and don't have plans, we could meet for lunch before her flight? My treat, all four of you. _

Oh boy.

_ BRAD: No pressure. The kids would like to meet their cousin. And you. I've told them to keep it low key, if you agree to it. Still, no pressure. I mean it. _

Christ. This wasn't how I wanted to first meet up with one of my brothers. I'd hoped to meet Brad first one on one, maybe for coffee or...no, not drinks. I forgot he didn't drink.

_ ME: I don't know that we have plans. Mat's already asleep. I'll ask him in the morning? _

_ BRAD: Absolutely. I hope you can make it. Good night. _

_ ME: Goodnight _

I turned on the white noise app and plugged in the charging cord then laid my phone face down. If any more texts came I didn't want to see them, though I doubted any would.

I didn't sleep well. At all. Mat was already awake when I opened my eyes the next morning, and it was getting light out when I gave up and rolled off my back and grouchily grabbed my phone off the side table and yanked the cord out and turned off the white noise.

"Aw babe, you didn't sleep well?" Mat asked in sympathy.

I grunted in the negative and checked my phone. No texts or emails. Good.

"Did the girls keep you awake?"

"No," I muttered. "I was texting with my brother. Brad."

"Ohh."

"Yeah. He offered to take us all to lunch next Saturday. Before Amanda's flight. His kids want to meet Amanda. And me." I opened the texts and read them again. Brad had said his kids wanted to meet their cousin. 'And you.' Not 'and their uncle'. What hadn't registered with me last night annoyed me this morning, but I had the feeling everything was going to annoy me this morning. I wasn't his kids' uncle. I wasn't anyone's uncle. I was their dad's estranged brother. And after all, they had two other perfectly good uncles who had been there all along.

"How do you feel about doing that?"

"I don't know. I didn't sleep well and frankly I'm in a not-very-good mood, so I don't think I can be rational about it right now."

Mat was silent for a moment then I heard a mumbled, "Okay."

Shit. I turned my phone off and rolled over, and he was facing me, his expression guarded. It made me feel like shit. "I'm sorry, honey," I murmured. "I'm not grumpy with you. At all."

"I know that. I just don't want to make it worse."

I grumbled guiltily and pushed his hair back over his shoulder from where it had fallen against his face. "You could never make it worse."

"Yeah, well, we both know that isn't true." He relaxed though. "What should we do?"

_ We _ . God, it was like an arrow through the heart to hear that. A good arrow. Like in a metaphorical sense. "I...was kind of hoping to meet him alone at first," I admitted. "But maybe… maybe doing it this way might be easier? Have the kids as a buffer. So no heavy topics come up." I hoped. God, how I hoped. "Do we have plans?"

"Not that I know of. I uh...don't mind. It'd be all right."

I knew Mat hated meeting new people, but he'd met Brad twice before, and I didn't think he'd be anxious about the kids, and our own would be there.

A burst of laughter that was quickly smothered came from the loft, and Mat sighed and leaned in to kiss me. It would have been nice to snuggle in bed for a while.

We got up and lumbered out into the living room like two bears emerging from a den, wincing when the girls saw us and figured they no longer had any need to be quiet. Mat brewed some coffee then we made a big breakfast, from-scratch buttermilk biscuits and gravy with fruit and sausage. We retreated the short distance to the couch to eat while the girls commandeered the dining room table. God they were adorable though, and they plowed through the breakfast as if they hadn't eaten in days.

While we ate, I texted Brad.

_ ME: I talked to Mat and we're good with the lunch. Where and what time? _

It took a good 15 minutes or more before he responded.

_ BRAD: Glad to hear it. There's a great Italian restaurant near the airport. Cute little place, very casual. I'll send you the info. 12:00 sharp? _

_ ME: Sure _

_ BRAD: Great, see you all then _

And that was that.

I was going to go have lunch with my brother. And a niece and nephew I'd never met. We were going to have lunch like we'd known each other forever. Just a nice family lunch. No pressure. No big deal.

Except it was. It was a very big deal.


	34. Chapter 34

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I parked across the street from the restaurant, one I had actually been to in the past, though not for a while. While I was glad that Brad had chosen this one, and not something fancy and expensive, I still had reservations about him paying for our lunch. It felt like charity. But I knew if I insisted on paying for our own party that it would make things tense and uncomfortable. Brad could afford it. I had passed his Mercedes in the parking lot. Shiny, freshly washed. Classy. I was driving my six year old basic sedan with the scraped up front bumper that I'd never bothered to get fixed after Amanda's fender bender last June.

I found a spot then parked and turned off the car, then I sat there with my hands on the steering wheel. The girls were silent in the back seat. Then I felt Amanda's hand on my shoulder at the same time Mat's hand landed on my leg. I was doing this for Amanda. Amanda wanted cousins, and by god I was going to give her cousins. I just hoped Brad's kids weren't anything like Brad had been as a teenager. Stuck up. Not a bad guy, but full of himself. He didn't seem to be anymore, but how could I really know? He was a stranger. They all were.

"Hey, sweetheart," Mat murmured soothingly. "It's just lunch, right? No pressure."

"There's pressure," I peeped, my voice tight. Internal pressure, sure, but pressure all the same.

Amanda said, "We're here for you, Pop. All three of us." Carmensita made a sound of agreement.

My family. These three were my family, not the three we were meeting for lunch. With their support I managed to get out of the car, and Mat held my hand as we crossed the street and went inside.

The restaurant was busy. It was the weekend, and lunchtime, but Brad had gotten there early enough to snag us a big table. I saw him rise and wave his hand to get our attention, and the dread in me swelled up to the point where I was two seconds away from backing out of the restaurant and leaving. Running back to the sanctuary of Gabby and Luis' house. They had both been so supportive of this meeting. Of everything. They would understand.

My feet wouldn't move, and I saw something flicker in Brad's expression before it went completely neutral. Was that a lawyer face? I was pretty sure he was giving me the lawyer face. I envied his ability to do that.

Brad said something to his kids then came towards us, and my hand tightened on Mat's. I could feel that his was sweating, or maybe it was mine, or maybe it was both of ours. I was sure he wasn't enjoying this either, but he wasn't emotionally invested the way I was.

"Hi," Brad said, with the same neutrality as his expression. "Glad you could make it."

"Hey," I replied shortly. I didn't move to embrace him, didn't move at all, and he didn't move towards me either. Not happening.

He held out his hand to Mat. "Hey Mat."

"Hey, how's it going," Mat replied, shaking it. He put his arm around Carmensita. "I know you've already sort of met, but this is my daughter Carmen." It never hurt to be official about it, and Brad gave her hand a shake of greeting as well.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Sella." Brad looked at Amanda then his expression loosened up as he smiled at her. "Hello Amanda." He held out his hand in that way that was an offer of either a shake or a hug.

It was a given which one she opted for.

I kept my face as empty as possible as I watched my daughter hug my brother. Her uncle. _Don't you fucking hurt her, jackass. Don't you fucking dare._ He laughed and smiled as he patted her back, all of it seeming genuine. Christ, he was so goddamn handsome, and he looked too goddamn much like our father, though Dad had never smiled like that. Not at any of us, anyway. I couldn't recall him ever smiling at me at all.

When he let go of Amanda he turned back to me, and I tried to smooth out the look on my face and must have failed. I knew I'd failed, because he swallowed and looked away then back again. Mistake. This was a mistake.

Brad's expression stayed controlled as he motioned with his head and said, "I got us a big table. The kids are excited to meet you."

I wasn't sure if he meant me, or Amanda, or all of us, but I nodded and followed him as he turned away. Mat kept hold of my hand, and I kept hold of his, and I felt his thumb rub against mine. Sweaty, but comforting.

Brad led us over to the table, where his kids rose from their chairs. They were attractive kids, of course, because the idea that Brad Coleman would have unattractive offspring was laughable. The girl, Emma, was outgoing and charming, while Jayden seemed shyer, more reserved; Emma was a redhead, and Jayden blond, but both had blue eyes, like seemingly everyone else in our family. Neither of them seemed to know what to make of me, though they were polite when I shook their hands. I couldn't help noticing that Brad introduced me as his brother, not their uncle, while he introduced Amanda as their cousin. Amanda sat on the end next to Emma, then Jayden and Brad on the same side; on our side was Carmensita next to Amanda, then Mat, then me. Me, sitting right across from Brad. Amanda was doing a good job of keeping a lid on her excitement, though I could tell she was happy. I was glad. Someone should be.

The waitress arrived with menus and asked for our drink order, and I desperately wanted something strong to drink, but I didn't think they had anything but beer and wine here. I could have gotten either of those, but it was only noon, and beyond that I didn't want to look like a lush, or be inconsiderate of someone who might be a recovering alcoholic.

I settled for water with lemon. I needed to drink more water anyway. Mat and Brad did the same while the kids got sodas.

"So…" Brad folded his hands on the table in front of him. He was wearing a nice Fair Isle pullover with a shawl collar, gray. He had nice hands, too. Manicured nails, not polished or buffed or anything, but perfect nails. He looked like a model. I knew we looked quite a bit alike, enough for anyone to tell we were brothers if we stood near each other, but I knew with all honesty that he blew me away in the looks department. I was still at a loss as to how I shared 50% of my DNA with this person.

"Yes," I mumbled. I reached for the red cloth napkin and slid the silverware out then unfolded it, then realized I had no need for it yet and refolded it into triangles on my plate. I felt Mat's hand on my leg. Steadying. Supportive. The four kids were talking, or at least the girls were, while Jayden's attention alternated between them and the dads.

"The big move is soon?"

"Oh, um...yes. We...moved a few things over already. Things I had in the garage from...before. We'll start moving the rest on Monday, a bit at a time. A friend of ours, one of our neighbors, is a contractor. He's going to start next weekend on remodeling the loft into a room for Amanda."

"Nice. Did you drive up here today?"

Christ, this felt like a job interview. "No, we're staying with Mat's sister-in-law. She lives in the South End." I heard laughter and looked down the table, and Amanda was showing everyone something on her phone. Carmensita was hanging over her shoulder, while Jayden was leaning in, smiling. Seeing my daughter with the other two was like a punch in the gut. All those years, lost. Everything they could have done together, all the holidays, birthdays, sleepovers, everything...lost. My hands tightened in my lap as I felt a swell of envy, and resentment. I was suddenly furious, and grieving, and I was trapped here and couldn't do anything about it. It felt like too many family dinners as a kid, though the reasons for the feeling were much different.

A glass of water was plunked down next to me, and I whispered, "Thank you," and grabbed it and took several gulps of it. I wiped my hands on the napkin then began fiddling with it, then let it fall on the plate and grabbed my menu. God I hated this. I would have much rather talked one-on-one, tackled whatever nasty subjects we needed to, than go through this. It felt stilted, and I felt put on the spot in a way I wouldn't have if it were just me and Brad, but Amanda seemed happy, in fact all four kids seemed fine with each other so far. It was just me with the problem, and maybe Mat a little, having to socialize with people he didn't know well in a busy, unfamiliar place.

I glanced at Brad and he was looking at the kids as well, an expression of sorrow on his face. All right, so maybe it wasn't just me with a problem here, but I felt like the bulk of it was falling on me. Still, I had agreed to come here, so I could try a tiny bit harder.

"Your house," I said, sounding as awkward as I felt. "It looks...nice." Nice. Idiot. Mat rubbed my leg, maybe in encouragement or approval.

Brad took his eyes from the kids and they returned to me as his expression smoothed over again and he gave me a polite smile. "Thank you. I bought it...oh, eighteen years ago? Well before I got married. It's an old house, so there's always something needing work, but I love it, and the location is great. Walkable, close to the pond."

"Yes, um...my neighborhood is the same. Walkable, I mean. Which I...guess you already knew." I cleared my throat. "Wonderful neighbors. Everyone's always willing to help everyone else. They were all really welcoming. It feels like I've lived there forever." Mat's hand gave my leg another gentle squeeze. He wasn't saying anything, but maybe he just didn't have anything to say, or was letting us work things out the way we wanted.

"That's great. It would have been nice to raise the kids on a cul-de-sac."

I nodded. "It would have been. Craig's kids are always out there playing with some of the others. The townhouse Alex and I raised Amanda in was across the street from a park, which was convenient."

"That would be."

The waitress returned and took our orders, which helped break up the awkwardness. Brad asked Amanda about school, and dorm life, and while they talked I fished my phone out of my pocket to check the time. 12:17. How had we only been here 17 minutes? I put it back and looked at Mat, and he gave me a sweet smile. I was so glad he was there.

Lunch improved a little from that point on, getting-to-know-you conversation without any sensitive topics being broached. Brad did most of the questioning, and it still felt like an interrogation, albeit a benign one. He asked if we had any upcoming vacations planned, and we mentioned that we had planned to go on one in early February for Mat's birthday but that had taken a backseat to moving in together and remodeling the loft. Brad talked a little about the kids' mother, who lived close enough to him that they were able to co-parent on frosty yet peaceful terms and easily alternate weekly custody. There was a story there, I was sure, and nothing he wanted to talk about in front of his kids, I could tell. He'd mentioned before that the divorce was his fault, and I wondered if it was related to the possible drinking problem.

Mat stayed mostly silent, other than answering a few questions Brad asked, but my brother seemed to sense that Mat would rather stay out of it altogether and after a bit left him mostly alone while still including him in the conversation as much as he could.

Lunch ended and the kids all ordered tiramisu, and I really would have liked some dessert too but old insecurities crept in. I had too many teenage memories that stung and felt all too close right now. I had an especially vivid one of Greg slapping my belly and joking around. I wondered if that made him feel shitty now that he was stockier than me. It should make anyone feel shitty regardless, but I had to wonder.

Mat leaned close and murmured, "Just have some, babe."

I grunted and shook my head and he quickly gave up. I didn't look at Brad, who was sitting very still across the table from me, his hands locked together.

The kids exchanged phone numbers, even Carmensita, which was awfully sweet, and we talked a bit more while they ate dessert, and god damn it that tiramisu looked fantastic and I was angry as hell with myself for being a big baby and not just getting what I wanted.

Emma gushed, "Oh my god, this is sooo good!"

_God damn_ it.

I sighed silently to myself and tried not to pout as I fiddled with my napkin, and I looked across the table and saw Brad watching me with a slight frown. I did my best not to blush, something I was rarely successful at. "I um, thank you," I said. "For lunch."

"Not a problem," Brad said with a brief, polite smile. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Um...yes. The kids." I cleared my throat. "It's nice they're getting along."

"It is," he agreed, something in his voice that wasn't altogether happy. Guilty maybe. Sad. "We'll have to get them together again one of these days soon. Have you all over for dinner, or a barbecue when the weather warms up."

Dinner. Or a barbecue. At Brad's house. Just a friendly family gathering at my brother's house. Like nothing had ever happened, like we hadn't spent three decades estranged from each other.

But he was trying. He kept trying. And even if this hurt, even if it was awkward, I knew it wouldn't always be. "One of these days," I murmured, and hoped it didn't sound like a promise.

After lunch we walked as a group across the street to the parking lot, and we paused on the sidewalk in front of it as a group. I nodded to the kids and said it was nice to meet them, they did likewise, still seeming wary of me. And why wouldn't they be? I was a stranger who had barely said two words to them in the last hour. The kids moved off a bit to say their goodbyes, and Mat shook Brad's hand then went to join the kids.

Brad put his hands in his coat pocket, and I had mine in my own. There would be no hugging. We weren't anywhere close to that yet, if we ever even would be.

He glanced at the kids then back to me and murmured, "I know this wasn't what you wanted."

"This was for the kids," I replied in tacit agreement.

Brad slowly nodded, his brow slightly furrowed. "I was hoping we could try this again, but just the two of us? It might be easier to talk that way."

"Sure."

He let out a little breath of relief. "I know you have the move coming up, but when you're ready let me know, and I'll come down to Maple Bay and we can do coffee or dinner or something."

I nodded. "Yes." After a brief pause I asked, "Does _she_ know about all this?" Our mother.

Brad chewed at the corner of his lip. Of course he knew who I meant. "Not yet, but I'm not about to hide it from her. If she asks, of course I'll tell her."

"If she asks," I said with a bitter laugh. "She hasn't said a word about me since she gave you the boxes, has she." It wasn't a question. I wanted Brad to rub her nose in it. I wanted Brad to volunteer the information, and I knew he wouldn't. Probably none of my brothers would, if our mother's health was fragile. Heart palpitations, he'd said. I wondered if her heart was giving out from all the years of living with our father, and her guilt over what they both had done to me.

He pondered that, looking past me, a pained expression on his face. "I think," he said in careful tones, "that she's at a point in her life where dealing with what happened--"

"What she _did_ ," I corrected in aggravation.

He inclined in his head. "Would probably kill her," he finished in a lowered voice. "And I know, I _know_ , that you have every right to be angry, but my kids love her, and they're _right there_." I gave him a short nod and looked away. Brad went on even more softly, "She was a shitty mother to you, I acknowledge that, but she was...an adequate mother to the rest of us, and a good grandmother."

"To Missy too?"

Brad winced a bit. "While it lasted. In the end Missy got shut out too, but she had the rest of the family supporting her, even if it was in the background. She wasn't mom's child, and she was an adult when it happened."

"Technically so was I," I said in a rough voice.

"It isn't the same. We both know it isn't."

I took one hand out of my pocket and rubbed my eyes then left my hand there. I hated when I did that, but I couldn't tolerate standing here talking to him otherwise. "I'm sorry." I don't even know why I said it, but it slipped out, and I couldn't take it back no matter how I wanted to.

"No. You have no reason to be," he stated, a touch of something akin to panic in his voice. "You don't ever...just don't tell me that, all right? You don't have to tell any of us that."

I sensed some kind of movement and for one split second was terrified that he was going to hug me, but instead I felt an awkward pat and squeeze on my shoulder, then he let go.

"I don't want to dredge anything up," Brad murmured. "I know it's unavoidable to some extent, but...you don't have to be sorry for being bitter. God knows I would be." He huffed out a short breath. "None of us were… parented the way we should have been, and sometimes I think Greg is the only one that got out mostly unscathed, but...what they did to you… I don't have much in the way of faith left at this point in my life, but if there's a hell, Dad's burning in it, and Mom… Mom probably will too."

I took my hand away and folded my arms tightly and nodded, not meeting his eyes. I looked past him to where Mat was standing with the kids, and all five of them were watching us. Mat gave me a sad but encouraging smile, and I held his gaze as I croaked, "I should...I have to go."

"All right. You don't want to cut it too close for her flight." Brad fidgeted like he was going to move in for a hug, but he shoved his hands in his pockets again and took a step back. "Let me know when you want to meet up for that coffee. Dinner, lunch, whatever works for you. And text or call me whenever you want."

"Sure." I never especially wanted to, and I didn't see that changing much after this. I couldn't say it wouldn't, but as of right now I just wanted this over with.

Brad stared at me for a moment longer, and when I finally met his eyes he looked pinched, collected but just barely, like he was holding it together with an effort. He frowned and nodded then turned away, and nodded and said something to Mat and the girls as he kept walking, shoulders tense, and his kids said goodbye then looked at me then turned around and took off after their father. I had to wonder what Emma and Jayden thought of me. I didn't imagine it was all that good.

After Brad was far enough away I went to Mat, and he put his arm around me to give me a half-hug and rub my back, then he took my hand and Carmensita's and led us to the car, Amanda following.

When we got there I could see Brad was nearly to his car, and I turned away and made a needy sound and moved against Mat. He clucked his tongue and wrapped his arms around me, and I closed my eyes and buried my face in his hair.

"Hey hey, babe, it's okay," Mat murmured soothingly, his voice full of sympathy. "I know that was hard."

I made a squeaky sound of assent and nodded. I held him tight, breathing in his comforting scent, suddenly close to tears. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I'd just had lunch with my brother. This was the first time I had sat down in 30 years to eat with anyone in my birth family. Brad and I hadn't eaten together, hadn't spent any time together, since we were teenagers. Kids. Easter of 1989 was the last time the whole family had been together and the last time I had seen my brothers. They hadn't come home anywhere near as often as Amanda did. There was probably a very good reason for that.

I heard a car drive by in the lot, and I whispered, "Is he gone?"

"That was just him that drove by," Mat replied. "And yeah, he looked, and he looked guilty, but you know what, let him. He should know this is costing you." There was a smothered sound nearby, and I felt Mat pull someone else close to us. "Hey, not you sweetheart, okay? What I said didn't apply to you at all."

"Oh no," I whispered, letting go of Mat to see my daughter standing there with big eyes and a guilt-stricken expression. I took her by the shoulders and said, "No no no honey. I'm fine. See? Totally fine. I'm just...just being melodramatic. Everything is fine."

Amanda quietly exclaimed, "Stop protecting me all the time! Jeez Pop, you're not fine! I've got eyes in my head!"

I took my hands away and looked at her with a hurt expression. "I'm fine enough. I can be upset sometimes and still be mostly fine." She folded her arms, glaring at me, and I added, "Today was for you, so you could meet your cousins, and yes, I'm upset, but it isn't the end of the world. Sometimes things have to hurt to get through them."

"You've been hurt enough," she stated with authority.

"I'm just one of those people that's easily hurt. I'm wired that way and always will be."

"Because of _them_."

"Because of my parents, yes, but nothing is ever going to change that. My father's dead and my mother won't be far behind, and I'm not going to poison myself by going after her. From what Brad says, it wouldn't do any good anyway. She'll never admit either of them did anything wrong, and at this point, what difference would it make? It won't undo anything." I reached out to her again and rubbed her shoulders then rubbed a finger under her chin, ducking down to look her in the eyes. "I'm okay," I promised. And at the moment I was, because I had to be strong for my daughter.

Amanda looked up at me with sad, angry eyes, and I leaned in to kiss her forehead. She didn't protest any further, though I could tell she was angry for my sake. It was sweet that she felt so protective of me, but I didn't particularly want her to. She could save it for when I was an old man. I wasn't there yet.

We headed to the airport and got Amanda to the gate with plenty of time to spare, enough that we were able to spend nearly another hour together, sitting and talking, snuggling, and when it came time for her to get on the plane we did plenty of crying too. All four of us gathered together in a sniffling bunch, hugging, then Amanda boarded the plane that was going to take her a thousand miles away from me. From us. We stood at the window and waited while she boarded, watched and waited as the plane backed away then left the gate.

Once the plane was gone I finally let myself really cry. I wasn't bawling, was being quiet about it, but I stood there with shaking shoulders as I stared out the window, soggy tissues clutched in my hand. Mat had his arm around me, rubbing my shoulder, then I felt Carmensita on my other side, leaning against me. I sniffed and put my arm around her and hugged her then kissed the top of her head, something I hadn't done before, and she hugged my waist and...it helped. It really did. I missed my daughter so much, but I wasn't alone, and I still had a daughter. Once I started moving in with Mat the next day, she would be a daughter in most ways that counted.

I got myself together and we headed to the car. Mat offered to drive and I let him, afraid to be distracted, though the drive wasn't a long one. I wasn't paying attention to our route, too self-absorbed to do more than sit and stare miserably out the window. I didn't realize where we were going until Mat was pulling over to the curb not long after we let the airport, and he pulled out his wallet and handed some money to Carmensita, who dashed out of the car. I stared at him in confusion then looked at where his daughter had gone.

She was running inside the Italian restaurant. The one we had just had lunch in a few hours ago.

"Mat," I squeaked, my throat closing up.

His tone firm but gentle, Mat said, "My baby wanted tiramisu, and he's getting tiramisu."

I drew in a sharp breath and looked up at the sun visor, trying desperately to not start crying again. My eyes were sore and my head hurt, and I was just sick of it in general. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and right now the idea of going to Gabby and Luis' house and putting my pajamas on and eating tiramisu was irresistible.

"I really love you," I whispered.

"I love you too." He reached out to rub the back of my head, and I leaned over to kiss him. He smiled at me and said in a sing-song voice, "We're moving in tomorrow!"

"Yes." I nodded, swallowing. "We are."

Mat's smile widened to a grin as he added, "I'm finally going to get that fancy quilt on my bed, and a handsome man to go under it, full-time."

I laughed a little then kissed him again. Within a few minutes Carmensita emerged from the restaurant with a box in her hands. I loved them both so much. I thanked her warmly for the tiramisu, and when I opened the box as we pulled away from the curb I took a deep breath. It smelled fantastic. God, this was going to be so good.

I closed it up again and Mat smiled at me, and we continued on our way to the South End.

I looked up at the sky, and tried not to feel sad that my daughter was somewhere up there, flying away from me at...500 miles an hour or however fast planes went, hell if I knew. I hated that she was traveling all alone, but knowing her she had already struck up a conversation with whoever was sitting next to her. She'd be fine. No matter where Amanda went, she was always fine. Maybe while she was in Chicago she would start texting her cousin Emma, maybe even do a video chat or something. Emma and Brad might even hook her up with some other cousins. Maybe I would ask him about that next time we talked.

I nibbled at my bottom lip, debating, then I opened the box and took a picture of the tiramisu and texted it to Brad.

_ME: We made a stop on the way back. Mat's orders. :)_

Within a few minutes a response came.

_BRAD: Hey, that's great! :) The kids said it was delicious. Enjoy!_

_BRAD: Did Amanda get on her flight all right?_

We texted back and forth for a couple minutes on the way to Luis and Gabby's house, and...it felt good. For now. Things might not be so rosy the next time we met, but for now it felt good to be able to just text my brother something that made me happy, and have him respond with pleasure. Maybe someday it wouldn't be a big deal. Maybe someday I'd be able to just text or call up any of my brothers like a normal person, and have a normal conversation. Maybe there really would be family dinners and barbecues in my future, our future. I could really believe that right now.

All because Mat had thought to stop and get me tiramisu. My partner had wanted to comfort me, and had made a detour to get me something he knew I had wanted but had been too uptight to get for myself.

He was so good to me.

When we got to Gabby's house I kissed and hugged Mat all over again, told him I loved him all over again, with my usual overboard sappiness that I was getting used to displaying all over again, and Mat accepted it the way he always did, with delight and plenty of warm affection of his own.

Things were going to be okay. I just had to hang onto that the next time a rough patch hit. With time they would get fewer and farther between, the way they once had with Alex, and I would forget that things had ever been any different, or I would forget how that difference had felt, anyway.

After dinner I shared my tiramisu with Cruze, and we all settled in for the night with a superhero movie. Amanda texted when her plane touched down, and again when she reached her dorm. The night ended on a good note.

The weekend ended on a good note all around, and the week started the same way. I wasn't moving over much in the way of furniture, or any of Amanda's things yet, so the move took only the afternoon, and by the next weekend I was fully settled in. It felt so great. I felt like I was home, though every time I looked over at my empty little house it made me a bit sad. I went over there once a day to check on things, when I got the mail, our mail, but other than that there was just no reason to go over there anymore.

Brian started work on the loft that Saturday morning, with all of us helping where directed, and that evening we were ambushed by everyone in the cul-de-sac coming over for a surprise housewarming party slash potluck. Even Joseph showed up with Mary and the kids, not his usual effusive self as he was at big gatherings but he was there, and he shook our hands and awkwardly wished us well. It was nice. It was good of him to put aside whatever his issue was for one night. Mat was embarrassed and I could tell he felt blindsided, but he was really touched too. We both were. What a great group of neighbors we had. The best.

I finally got the chance that night to take Craig aside and talk to him about my family, and he wasn't happy at first, not at all, but he understood where I was coming from, and in the end all he wanted was for me to be happy, and I was. I really was.

We all took lots of pictures and put them up online, and I wished we could all fit into a single picture. Maybe Mat had been right after all, that family was the people who were always there for you and loved you, whether you lived with them or not. Maybe it was easier to see that, now that I lived with Mat and Carmensita, and was slowly working towards reconciling with my brothers.

We both woke up Sunday a little hungover, but it had been worth it. The party had gone a long way towards making the move feel official. I still needed to change my address with the post office, but there was hardly a hurry to do so when my mailbox was right next to Mat's and the disposition of my house was still up in the air.

I would bring up the matter with Mat's mom when I got more comfortable with her. I planned to call her next week to get her help with renewing my piano skills as soon as possible, now that I was all moved in and at Mat's full-time. Maybe once my house was taken care of he would be more open to the idea of getting married sooner rather than later. I would never pressure him into that, ever, so all I could do was make him feel secure and wait for him to come to that decision on his own.

In the meantime though, this was enough. Mat and I shared a home, and I was happy. Sometimes, good enough was good enough.


	35. Chapter 35

"There you go, good, good! Keep going!"

I could honestly say that practicing piano with Mat's mom was an entirely different experience than my piano lessons as a kid. My childhood teacher hadn't been mean, but he had been a bit dour, and he hadn't made the lessons fun. There wasn't much that I found fun about daily scales and arpeggios, but Bev had certainly been right that they were necessary. I hadn't made a whole lot of progress on my own just practicing easy sheet music, but in the last month and a half of her helping me out I'd seen a big improvement in not only my skill but my stamina and flexibility. Sadly, it wasn't going to be enough to play at an open mic night any time soon. It was the second week of April and I was just now getting to a point where I didn't cringe frequently when I played.

Bev though… Mat's mom was just so  _ nice _ . Both Mat's parents were great, but Bev, she was just so… so  _ nice _ . She had been utterly floored and then utterly delighted when I'd called her out of the blue the first week of February to ask for her help in relearning the piano. She hadn't taught many adults during her career, but she had been more than happy to help me out, especially once I told her I was doing it to surprise Mat. I often saw Doug in the background listening to us, and he occasionally threw in one of his dry comments, so I felt like this was a good way to get to know him better too, beyond the family video calls once a week.

While I had made good headway in relearning the piano, I hadn't made much headway in convincing Mat's parents to move to Maple Bay. They were looking for a house on their own, but single-level homes were at a premium. There were retirement communities with condos or apartments available, but Bev loved gardening and wanted her own yard. I never pushed them, but let them gently know the offer was there.

And so my house sat empty, week after week, and I was at the point where I was ready to either rent it out or put it on the market. Neither option really appealed to me. I wanted the house dealt with so that I could help Mat out financially, and he was as stubborn as his parents and wouldn't let me pay him anything until the house was sold or rented out. I bought all the groceries, his one concession, and still paid for my own cell phone, but he wouldn't let me pay for anything else, not even the internet, and I was the one at home using it all day. I'd tried to make up for it in other ways, in doing more of the housework and laundry, but Mat had just about come out of his skin when he'd realized what I was doing and had put a quick stop to that.

Living with Mat had been just as fantastic as I'd hoped, though. He was easy to get along with, particular about some things, a bit of a control freak sometimes, but that was a side effect of his anxiety more than anything else, and he'd been talking lately about starting to see my therapist to get a handle on it. I worked around his anxiety the way he had helped me through my depression, and I was more than happy to do so. 

I was happy in general. Things were going really well on pretty much every front. Robert and I had won the duet challenge during the inaugural 80s karaoke battle with our moving rendition of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' and had gone home with a cool $250 each; I hadn't won the solo competition before that, but I had been more than happy to lose to Robert's fantastic performance of "Everybody's Working for the Weekend", and seeing Mat's face when I sang 'Hungry Eyes' from  _ Dirty Dancing  _ had been more than worth the loss. The way he'd watched me when I sang...wow. I wondered if that was what I'd looked like the night we'd gotten together, when I had watched him sing, though of course I'd also looked really sad then. 

We'd had the house to ourselves that night with Carmensita over at Brian's, and Mat had just about started tearing my clothes off the moment we got in the door and had demanded  _ that thing I asked you for a while back, well I need it now like right now _ and...man had that ever been an eye opener. His...enthusiasm through the whole thing had been absolutely breathtaking. The words that had come out of that man's mouth were ones I'd never imagine Mat saying even in the heat of the moment, and we'd both laid there afterwards more than a little stunned by the whole series of events. It had never really been my thing, but seeing what it brought out of Mat had made me rethink my stance on the subject. He had stared up at the ceiling with a blissed out look on his face and said in a faint voice  _ yeah so we'll definitely be doing that again _ and I'd grunted in agreement.

Robert and I went to karaoke at the bar a few times a month, and Mat had tagged along twice to watch, as had all the guys except Joseph at least once. When Mat came I sang lots of sappy love songs to him, and he always blushed and chuckled but looked so happy when I did.

The only thing that was not 100% great, other than worrying about what to do with my house, was my brothers. Not that things were bad, but they were still awkward. They would continue to be for some time, I was sure.

I'd met with Brad a couple more times, and we'd hashed out a lot of things. He'd told me about the drinking problem he'd developed in college, and how he'd never wanted marriage or kids, but he'd been seeing a coworker, both of them in their 30s, and he hadn't been honest with her about what he wanted, or rather didn't want; our parents had been pressuring him for years to marry and have kids, and when she got pregnant, he was certain on purpose, he had bowed to the pressure and done 'the right thing', and ended up making them both  miserable. His drinking got worse, she grew bitter, he moved to a different firm in an attempt to make things less tense, he screwed around and got caught, she wanted a divorce, and he'd given her one. The only thing they hadn't done wrong was pull the kids between them. They knew about his drinking but not the affairs, and he'd gone to rehab and had been dry for several years. And of course our parents had given him hell for all his failings, and he had let them, more than willing to take it in his guilt. It had been sad to listen to, but I'd listened, just as he'd listened when I talked.

I felt like Brad and I were actually doing okay. We texted occasionally, called once in a while, and he wanted to have us over for a backyard barbecue as soon as it warmed up, once Amanda was back home, and I told him we would do the same. 

Mat and I were getting his backyard, well, our backyard, all squared away; he'd told me I could do whatever I wanted with it, so with Brian's help we had put in raised beds last weekend, since he didn't need a lawn for Carmensita to play on any longer. As soon as the last frost passed we were going to plant a veggie garden, and put in flower beds along the fence lines and some pots on the patio. I kept up the yard at my house, and there was currently no fence between the backyards, though once we knew what was going to happen with it we could figure out what to replace it with. If Mat's parents moved in, a gate would be going in, but otherwise a new solid fence would have to go up.

As for my other two brothers, I had plans to meet Greg at the end of April. We had emailed back and forth, he had sent me pictures of his family, his wife Kyung-Mi and their three kids; they were all grown and out on their own now, though Missy was the only one who was married. No grandkids yet. 

I still felt conflicted about Michael, though. We had emailed a few times, and he had been way too smothering the first time and it had put me off. I'd had to remind him that I was an adult and fine for the most part, no matter what Brad might have told him, and that his self-flagellation wasn't doing anyone any good. I got that he felt like shit. I got it. But I wasn't going to meet with him until I was sure that it wasn't going to end up being a scene. Brad assured me that Mike was calm and quiet and collected, but when it came to me and how badly he felt he had failed me, he was frankly kind of making me uncomfortable. I'd told Mike so and he'd toned it down, but I was still wary. I'd meet with Greg first and see how that went before I agreed to meet with Mike.

So...yeah, things were good, other than the painful process of getting to know my brothers again. Brad and I would be all right; we were close in age and I found him comfortable enough to be around. He had been the brother I had always spent the most time with as a kid. I thought maybe Greg and I could end up on at least cordial terms; he had the most intense personality out of all of us, but he was the one I felt I could relate to best, at least as far as our opinion on our parents and how we'd raised our kids. It helped a lot to know he had cut off our father, and that Missy had only been the final nail in the coffin for Greg. The jury was still out on Mike. I was certain that he was a wonderful guy. Brad and Greg both said so, and I admired his charity work. But that didn't mean I was going to find him easy to hang out with, other than at family gatherings. I had already let all of them know that I wasn't in the least interested in attending any where our mother might show up, but I didn't have much problem with attending others, within reason. The only way it was all going to get any easier was by exposure.

I finished the scale then stretched out my fingers and hands. My laptop was set up nearby so that Bev could see my posture and the keys. I had the keyboards turned down low enough that no one passing by on the sidewalk would be able to hear, but loud enough that Bev could. These keyboards were really high quality, the keys feeling almost like a real piano.

"Just keep at it," she counseled. "I can see you improving week by week. It's like swimming or riding a bike."

I smiled at her. She was so encouraging. I could hear Mat doing the same with Carmensita when they were practicing drums in the garage, though sometimes it was hard to hear anything over the noise. "Thank you," I said sincerely. "I want to be able to play at an open mic night soon, but I'm not quite there yet."

"You could go with something easy."

"I could, but I wanted to play 'Fur Elise'. It was always my favorite song to play, but those faster parts…" I shook my head. I could play the slow parts fine, by memory, well, no, I still had the entire song memorized and it had come back to me easily enough, but I couldn't manage the fingerings on the faster parts at the speeds they should be played. I had thought about playing 'Moonlight Sonata' instead, since I could manage the pace of that and also had that memorized, but I didn't want people snoozing in their seats.

I wanted what I played for Mat to be  _ perfect _ . He had played a couple new songs at March's open mic night, which had made me start crying in front of everyone, really moving, beautiful songs, ones I really thought he should record in a studio, but he wouldn't budge on that. It was enough that we had videos of it, and all the videos of me singing with him. I couldn't blame him for not wanting to get back into the music business, beyond hosting those nights. But I wanted what I played for him to be a gift as much as his songs to me had been.

Bev took a sip of her coffee then said, "Let's give it another run. Go as slow as you need to. Play it enough and you'll get faster every time."

I nodded and wiggled and stretched my hands and arms again then began to play. It had been a few sessions since I had played 'Fur Elise' in front of her, but we had been doing this long enough that I felt comfortable with it. Mat knew that I talked to his parents from time to time during the day, and he loved that, but he didn't have a clue that we were doing this, and Bev and Doug had the best poker faces I had ever seen and hadn't given anything away to Mat.

Yeah, I thought I sounded pretty good today, though. My fingers were limber, things were flowing… I took the faster runs at a more sedate pace, preferring accuracy over speed, and only flubbed a few notes. Maybe I would be ready by May's open mic night? Hopefully?

Playing again though...it really felt good. The memory of my parents forcing me to practice had grown distant under Bev's kind tutelage. It was just nice to pick this up and dust it off, and I was looking forward to surprising everybody. I hadn't told anyone that I was doing this except Amanda and Craig, who wasn't into music the way Mat and I were. Well, even I wasn't into music the way Mat was.

I finished then took my hands away from the keys, and when Bev was silent I looked at her, wondering if she was still there, or if I'd massively screwed something up. She had a weird look on her face, a deer-in-the-headlights sort of look, and I drew a breath to ask her what was wrong when I heard a gurgle just behind me and to my right.

I shrieked.

Mat was standing there. Gaping at me.

"How did you get in?!" I squawked, clutching my chest. Oh god. He was  _ here _ . In the house. While I was playing. With his mom there.

My surprise was ruined. Completely ruined. My throat grew tight as I looked up at him and did my best not to pout, but…

Mat was crying? Oh no. Not full-on bawling, but just a single tear running down each cheek. He tried to clear his throat, but it came out strangled. He sniffed and wiped his face.

I asked with worry, "What's wrong?" Just why  _ was  _ he here in the middle of the day, and crying at that?

"You…" Mat stared at me in disbelief, his dark eyes huge. "You've been  _ practicing? _ "

"Yeah, I...I wanted to surprise you. At an open mic night. I've been practicing with your mom for the last two months, but--"

"Two months!" he cried. "Jesus, Mitchell!" He put his face in his hands.

I stared at him in confusion.

"I can't believe you've been practicing all this time!" he exclaimed tearfully into his hands. "With my mom! I can't believe you two!"

Was he happy? Upset about the subterfuge? I was so clueless right now. I thought he was touched maybe, and overwhelmed. At least I hoped that was the reason. I reached out and took him by the elbow, gently pulling on him to sit down next to me, sliding over to make room. "Your mom's been helping me get back into it. She…I…I really have no idea what's going on. Why are you here?"

"Carmen thought she forgot her biology book, so I came home to get it for her," he mumbled, "but she texted me when I was nearly here and said she found it, so...I figured I'd come home anyway. To see you."

"Ohh, Mat honey," I sighed. "I could've brought it to her if she thought it was here. I mean, I'm right here, and...can you take your hands down, please?" He took his hands down and sniffed, and I got up to get him a tissue then brought it back and put my arms around him as he took off his glasses and blew his nose. His eyes were red and his nose a bit puffy. The poor thing. I kissed his temple and tried not to feel too disappointed. Maybe my surprise was ruined, but he was still surprised. Very surprised. "Your mom's been helping me since right after I moved in, but I um...started practicing back in December--" His shoulders fell and he looked at me with such a sweet, poignant expression that I thought he would start crying all over again. "I would sneak over here during the day while you were at work."

Mat let out a heavy sigh and blew his nose as he looked past me at his mom. Bev was sitting there with big wet eyes, her hands clasped in front of her chest, and Doug was right there too with his arm around her shoulders. I had no idea where he had come from, because he hadn't been there before I started playing. He was smiling though. He had a good smile, a broad smile, so much like Mat's.

"Mom," he said in disbelief, "it scares me that you're such a good liar."

Bev laughed, though she sounded a bit choked up. "It was for a good cause, honey," she replied. "And didn't he sound nice? Really coming along."

Doug said with a decisive nod, "I thought he sounded real good."

Mat let out a short laugh as he looked at me again. "Yeah. Great." He took my left hand and squeezed it. "You sounded  _ great _ , babe," he insisted. "I can't believe you. So sneaky." He let out another little laugh, his eyes still shiny. "You did this for  _ me _ ."

"For you," I agreed, my voice a little rough. I leaned close and gave him a kiss on the cheek, cognizant of his parents being right there. I laughed a bit and said, "I must've been in a zone or something. I didn't hear you come in."

"I was trying to be quiet since you were working." He smiled at me. "Or I thought you were." He made a squeaky, happy, adorable little sound and threw his arms around me.

I held him in return, and...god, I just loved this man so much. Mat was so loving, so generous, so brave and kind, funny and naughty at times, handsome, good in bed, a fantastic cook, smart, everything anyone could have ever wanted in a partner. In a husband. And how I wished he could be my husband. The subject of marriage hadn't come up since I'd moved in, and with each month that went by I wondered what he was waiting for. The fate of my house was still up in the air, but I didn't think that was the roadblock. I wasn't sure what was other than the finances, and those would continue to be the same for years and years to come. Surely he wouldn't make me wait years?

Mat's parents signed off, after saying goodbye to us both. Mat's dad didn't have a whole lot to say, per usual, and I told Bev I would talk to her before our next session.

After they were off Mat squeezed me again and exclaimed, "I can't believe you, babe! I came to the door and couldn't believe my ears, then...wow. I was so totally floored, dude, you have no idea."

I laughed and rubbed his back. "I might have a little idea." God, it was adorable when he called me dude. He hardly ever did anymore, but it was cute every time.

Mat scooted to the end of the bench to make room and asked sweetly, "Play something else for me?"

I couldn't say no to that, especially when Mat said it in that voice. Something else, something else… Something easy. I'd practiced a lot of different pieces over the last four months, not all of them classical. I wanted to play him a love song, and there was one that was wonderfully easy to play and sing along with. I had marriage on my mind, and this was a wedding staple, in fact if I remembered correctly it had been played at Craig and Ashley's wedding.

So I played "The Rose" for him. It was cheesy, as just about any love song would be right now, but it was also a pretty song and simple to play. I didn't think he had been expecting me to sing to him as well, in fact I was pretty sure he hadn't. The song wasn't hard to play, or sing, nice and slow, but full of emotion. Romantic. I didn't look at Mat, just focused on what I was doing, keeping the vocals soft, afraid that if I looked at him I would lose my train of thought and mess up. I managed to get through the song without screwing it up, feeling pretty proud of myself by the end.

I took my hands from the keys and folded them in my lap, feeling self-conscious even though I thought I did all right, then I heard Mat suck in a shaky breath and slide close to take one of my hands in both of his and pull it into his lap.

"Yeah," he whispered. He rubbed his thumbs across the back of my hand. "Rosa...she loved playing that song."

I winced. "Oh. Oh, I---"

"No no! I  _ loved  _ it, sweetheart. More than...more than I have words for."

I clucked my tongue and looked at him, and he was staring at me, his eyes damp again. Mat wasn't a cryer the way I was. He was plenty comfortable with his emotions and would get shiny pretty easily, but he didn't often cry, and when he did it was usually because I was crying. I wasn't at the moment. Maybe it was better that I had gotten caught out like this. I hated the thought of him crying in front of everyone at open mic night. I didn't care if people saw me doing it, because first of all I didn't care, and second it was a pretty well known fact at this point that Mitchell Rivera would cry at the drop of a hat. I didn't think Mat minded either, but this...maybe this was more meaningful, somehow.

"Four months," Mat said in bewilderment. "You've been at this for four months? For me?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "Well, not...really, I mean, December and January I was doing it on my own and not getting much of anywhere. Watching videos and um, stuff online. Then after we moved in together and I was here all day every day I asked your mom if she would help me." I chuckled. "Your dad was always in the background too, listening and watching. Your mom is a wonderful teacher. Patient. Really encouraging."

"Yeah, she is," he murmured. "She taught me."

"I really thought I would get back into it a lot faster, but--"

He cut me off with a squeeze of my hand. "Hey, no. You sounded  _ great _ , babe. And just now… wow. Beautiful. This means so much to me, I..." His breath went out in a whoosh. "The things you do for me… When were you going to tell me? That you were doing this?"

"At an open mic night." Mat's mouth fell open slightly. I looked down at our joined hands. "I was going to, um, put an assumed name on the list. I was going to go on as…" I cleared my throat. "Tomas Kalnoky? Or maybe uh...Frankie Two-Tone--"

Mat burst into laughter and grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me into a kiss. "You are just too much," he stated with a grin. It quickly softened though, and he shook his head a little and repeated, "The things you do for me."

I leaned my forehead against his. "Because I love you. More than anything." Except my daughter, which as always went without saying.

"You do, don't you." His voice sounded a bit odd, like...like it was touched with a bit of amazement, like he was really moved, but there was something else in it too, something I couldn't put my finger on.

"I do," I agreed. I leaned back to look at his face and reached up to lay my hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, staring at me with the sweetest expression. God, the things Mat's face did to me. I stroked his cheek and tried to put all my love for him into my expression, and he melted further. How I wished he didn't have to go back to work. I wasn't in the mood for sex, but I was definitely in the mood for petting and cuddling. "Could we… Do you have time to snuggle for a--"

Mat's phone chimed in his pocket, and he sighed and shifted so he could take it out. He looked at it and sighed again. "Dad. He wants me to call him when I'm free. Not urgent. I'll call him later this afternoon." He put the phone aside then smiled at me. "Yeah, I've got the time. I've always got time for you, babe."

I held out my hand, and he took it and we went to sit on the couch, scooting close together so I could wrap my arms around him. He wasn't much smaller than me, 5'10" to my 6'1", not much difference at all, but I loved holding him, and he seemed to prefer being the one to be held most of the time. He never hesitated to cuddle me when I needed or wanted it, though.

  
We snuggled without saying much for the next 10 or 15 minutes, though several times Mat seemed about to say something then reconsidered. I didn't press. I never had to do that with him. If he had something to say he'd say it. He didn't sit on things the way I did, though I had gotten much better about it over the last couple months of living together. There wasn't much I held back, even when it resulted in minor disagreements, and they had all been minor. There was just the one thing that I didn't bring up. That one little thing, that wasn't so little at all.

Mat and I finally found the willpower to separate, since he needed to get back; the lunch rush was coming up and he didn't have the heart to abandon Pablo to it without good reason. I stood out front of the house, our house, and gave him a final goodbye kiss then watched him walk down the sidewalk. As always, he waved at me at the corner before he disappeared.

God, I loved him so much.

I went back inside and saw that someone had tried to call while I was outside. I tidied up the keyboard area then got another cup of coffee out of the pot and reheated it, and while it was in the microwave I swiped on my phone. Bev.

I called her, and when she answered I sighed, "Well, the cat's out of the bag."

She laughed and replied, "We gave it our best shot. Honestly, I'm surprised we got away with it as long as we did. Doesn't he ever come home during the day?"

"When he does it's early, but I usually go to the shop to get first coffee and breakfast, after getting Carmen off to school." I paused then added, "I really could have taken her book to her. I know she doesn't automatically think of me for this kind of thing, but I'm right here. I don't mind doing it." I hesitated then said, "I want to do it. I miss doing stuff like that for Amanda."

"I think it just doesn't occur to her," Bev said with sympathy. "It's not that she doesn't want you to."

"I know. I um… Yes." I didn't know what more to say. This was Mat's mom. I'd talked all this out with Craig, but it felt weird talking to Mat's mom about it. We didn't usually stray into really personal areas. I wanted Carmensita to be my daughter too. I wanted her to call me Dad or Pop or whatever she felt comfortable with, and I didn't feel we could go there until Mat and I were married. 

It was quiet for a moment then she asked, "Everything okay, hon?"

"Oh! Yes! Fine. Everything's fine. Just...have a lot on my mind. Oh! And I played a little bit more for Mat. I wish our surprise hadn't gotten ruined, but he was still surprised." I took my coffee out of the microwave and tucked the phone under my chin as I put in cream and hazelnut syrup.

She laughed, "Oh yes he was. That was the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Even Doug got a little choked up. But don't tell him I said that."

"My lips are sealed," I vowed, making her laugh. I loved Bev's laugh. She laughed so easily. I went on, "I hope we can continue our lessons, though?"

"Good lord, yes, we're not stopping now!"

I smiled, though she couldn't see it. I hoped she could hear it in my voice. "I'm glad." I hesitated then said, "I think Mat would like me to play with him the way Rosa did. I think I could, if he wrote out the songs. I might be able to learn some of them by ear, if I can find a way to isolate the piano parts, but… I can't write music with him. I mean I can't write music, period. I'll never be able to do that."

Her voice softened as she said, "He would love it if you played with him the way she did, even if it's just at home." She added with affection in her tone, "Rosa was a special girl. Gifted. And they did make beautiful music together, and a beautiful baby girl. She was… How do I put this? Spirited? And I don't mean that in the old-fashioned way of a woman who doesn't know her place. She had fire, a good fire, the kind you dance around. And oh, her laugh, she had the most infectious laugh."

"I can only imagine," I murmured, taking my coffee back to the corner of the dining room, where I had my work area set up. I hadn't seen any videos of Rosa beyond the old Stillness The Dancing shows, but I had seen plenty of photos of her laughing. Alex had been a positive, cheerful guy, but he had also been easy-going, calm for the most part; Mat had told me that Rosa had been intense, and that they'd had plenty of arguments over the years, though they'd always blown over quickly.

"She was good for Mat. But you've been really good for him too. Your fire is the kind you warm yourself next to. Doug's like that. Steady. Always there for anyone who needs him. I think that's what hurts him most these days, not being able to help people out the way he used to."

"Yes, I could see that." I found Bev's words really touching. She hadn't said anything quite like that to me before. A fire that Mat could warm himself beside...that was how she saw me?  _ Me? _ I was so flattered and moved I hardly knew what to say.

"I suppose what I'm saying is that Doug and I are both so glad that you're there for our son," Bev stated, a hint of awkwardness in her voice.

I replied, "And I always will be. For as long as he lets me." It was quiet after that. I didn't hear any sounds in the background, not Doug or the tv or anything.

She finally asked in a confused, worried tone, "Lets you?"

Shit. "I um…" I let out a little laugh. "Just a uh, figure of speech, I suppose."

"Surely you don't...well, we all saw. He loves you like crazy, Mitchell."

"Um, yes. He does. I know he does, and how much. I really do. It just...it came out wrong. Things are...um, really great with Mat. I like living here." Lame. Christ, that sounded lame!

"Living there! Like a houseguest?"

Ugh, god. "Well, it's…" I cleared my throat then tittered awkwardly. "Not my house, really. It's… well, it's  _ our  _ house, in that I live here, but..." Bev was silent. "It's just that...it's that I offered. To help out. He won't let me. Help with bills and the mortgage, I mean. I um, I told him I would have buy-in that way. That it would feel more like it was ours. I mean, my house is still next door, just… sitting there, empty, but I don't have a mortgage, so that's not the end of the world. I go over and check on it every day. Make sure there's nothing...like a leak or anything?" My voice squeaked a bit as it rose. And still, Bev was silent. "And I'm not pressuring you guys to move in, I totally understand why you don't want to. I think I might rent it out, I mean, even if I sold the house I don't think Mat would let me put any of that towards his house, and we're not...not married, and...all right, well, I'd like to be, let's just get that out there, I don't want you and Doug thinking I don't want to marry your son. I very much do. Want to get married. I brought it up all the way back in early December, but Mat, well, he says he'd like that too but he has financial worries, not that it's anything big, I mean his finances are fine, so I told him I could help with that but he doesn't want the help, so we're...sort of in a stalemate? I don't want to pressure him. I don't want to pressure anyone into anything. Not him, not you and Doug. Nobody."

Bev continued to be silent for so long that I was afraid our call had dropped, but when I looked at the phone the time count was still going.

"Oh...dear," she murmured, sounding taken aback.

"I'm sorry," I quickly said. "I know that was more than you wanted to hear. I just really don't want you thinking I don't want to get married. To Mat. I try not to let it show, but I feel a little, um… like a freeloader living here in a house I don't contribute to financially. I buy all the groceries. I insisted on that. And I told him that when my house is taken care of that he's going to have to accept me paying him something for living here. I know how he feels about things, I mean he told me about Rosa. About how he wanted to marry her but she didn't want to and he felt like he had nothing to offer her, but it isn't the same now, with us. For me getting married is about the emotional security of it, and I know he's just as committed to me either way, I really do trust that, but it's… it's the idea, of wanting things blended, of wanting to be one instead of two, and it...bothers me, living here without contributing financially to the household. It makes it feel like it isn't really mine too, no matter what he says." Shit. I was getting a little choked up, and I was sure she could hear it in my voice. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I shouldn't have said all that. Don't tell Mat. Please. I don't want to make him feel bad. I'm happy with how things are. Really. Don't...um, mind...me?"

Idiot. I was the world's biggest idiot. I could at least think that now without getting caught up in a cycle of self-defeat and self-loathing. Why in the world did I spill all that out? To Mat's  _ mother _ , for god's sake!

"Oh dear," Bev repeated, sounding sad. "Oh hon. That is so sweet, but you're breaking my heart a little, you know that?"

"I'm sorry."

"Lord no, you don't need to be sorry. I'm glad you felt you could tell me all that."

"I didn't mean to. It just sort of…" Slipped out. I'd just wanted very badly for Bev to understand what Mat meant to me. "I could live without getting married if he'd just let me...invest. In us. Um… financially." I quickly added, "I'm doing it again, sorry."

"No no." I heard her draw in a deep breath. "Can I give you a little advice, honey?"

"Yes, of course."

"Just ask him to marry you."

A shudder went through me. "Oh...oh no. No, I can't do that," I said in horror. "I couldn't… couldn't handle it if I asked and he said no. I'm sorry, but I'm not that strong a person. If I asked him and he said no or put me off or…" I had to stop, my voice getting thick. I was  _ not  _ going to cry on the phone with Mat's mom.

"Do you really think he'd say no? You already live together."

I grumbled and took a sip of my lukewarm coffee and stared at the black monitors. This was my house and it felt like it, but I never forgot that it wasn't  _ really  _ mine, and that if anything happened to Mat that I'd...god, I'd have to just move right back next door again. That was horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. I didn't worry something would happen to Mat, because my god how could even I have luck that bad, but it was just that background feeling that I wasn't 100% rooted.

I answered, "Maybe not flat out. He didn't say no before when we talked about it. Back in December. He said he wanted to but he had to get some things in order and think about it for a while. But that was four months ago, and it um, hasn't come up since. Not even in an offhand way. We've been together for eight months, and next week will make it a year since we met." Mat had put the Coffee Spoon into an LLC right after our discussion in December, so that was one worry off his plate, and he was letting me buy all our groceries which was a not insubstantial contribution, because Mat had good taste and we ate well. But two and a half months of living together had gone by and there had been no more mentions of marriage, no more talk about finances. I was half the equation there, obviously, but I was extremely leery of the appearance of being pushy. I didn't push. It wasn't my thing.

"Well if there's something I know about my son, he tends to get...hm, comfortable, I think? When everything is going fine and he's happy. I can tell that he's happy, both of us can." She paused then gently urged, "Ask him. He won't say no. He might hem and haw a bit, but if nothing else it'll open up a dialogue."

I whined, "I'd rather not have what I hope would be a carefully planned and romantic proposal end up being nothing but a conversation starter."

Bev chuckled, though I heard the sympathy in it. "Well, think about it."

"I will, but… I appreciate your advice, I really do. Thank you."

"I know you do, and you're welcome. If you don't mind my asking, who proposed before? Between you and Alex?"

"Neither of us. I um...one night we were eating dinner, I don't even remember what I made but I suppose it must have been good because he joked that he was going to marry me someday, and I joked back that if he did I'd take his name. You know, because I um, wanted to get rid of anything to do with my family. We couldn't marry then, but it was always just a given from that point on that we would if we could. And when we could, we did."

"Ohhh. Oh, that's...well."

"If Mat and I did, um...marry, I plan to keep Alex's name."

"Rosa kept her name. I don't think Mat would expect you to change it. In fact I know he wouldn't." She paused then added in a cheerful tone, "But just imagine, one day you'll be calling us Mom and Dad. You'll do that, won't you? I hope that's all right."

Oh god. "Yes," I said in a choked voice. "I would…" I swallowed hard. "I'd really like that." I couldn't imagine having that, people I could call Mom or Dad without bad associations.

I got off the phone as quickly as I could after that, and I thought that Bev understood why. I gave into it for a while and just sat there and quietly cried. Got it all out. I always felt better after I did, though I also almost always ended up giving myself a headache. I went into the bathroom and put cold water on my face and pulled myself together then made myself a sandwich and a fresh coffee, took something for the headache, then went back to work.

The thought wouldn't leave me the rest of the day, though. Propose to Mat. Ask him to marry me. A real proposal. He had been proposed to before, by Rosa, but I had gotten the feeling that it hadn't been a formal proposal, more of a 'so let's get married, then' sort of proposal.

I had to admit the idea had appeal. Propose to Mat. Do something really meaningful and romantic. He loved that sort of thing, even if he always got all blushy and bashful whenever I did something like that.

God it was scary, though. I didn't think he'd say no. He'd told me four months ago that he wanted to get married. But the thought of doing something so special, of putting my heart and soul into it and then having him not give an enthusiastic yes...it hurt. A lot. Mat would be kind about it, the way he was about everything, but it was a sad truth that I was easily wounded, and not getting a happy  _ Yes! _ would hurt.

I was surprised at 3:30 by the sound of a key in the door, and I rolled back from my desk and stood to stretch. Carmensita came through the door, and I said to her, "Hi honey, where's your dad?" Mat wasn't behind her, but surprisingly Daisy was, with her dog Maxwell on their heels. Brian's daughter waved hello and I waved back.

"He said he had something he had to help Brian with and that he'd be home by dinner."

I frowned in confusion. "Oh. Okay. Um, are you girls hungry?"

"That's okay, we can grab a yogurt or something." They headed to the kitchen.

I watched them for a moment, and they got their yogurt and spoons then promptly disappeared into Carmensita's room with the dog and shut the door.

Okay, then.

I shook my head and sat back down. If all the girls wanted was yogurt then they could just have yogurt.

I worked for a few more minutes then texted Mat.

_ ME: Hi honey, the girls are here. Carmen says you're out with Brian, does he want to have dinner with us? _

Mat didn't always respond right away when he was busy, and I was clueless as to what he was busy with. With Brian. It wasn't any of my business, honestly. It wasn't as if Mat didn't have his own things to do that didn't concern me, and Brian was his best friend as far as I knew. I didn't at all think that they were as close as Craig and I were, but Brian was the person Mat hung out with the most other than me.

_ MAT: yeah sure babe he said that would be great I know it's my night to cook but if you could get it started I'd really appreciate it I think there's enough for five people there just won't be any leftovers yeah so anyway I'll see you later I love you bye _

I stared at his message, baffled, then I slowly typed out my reply.

_ ME: No problem, love you too _

Huh. Odd. Mat had clearly been a little wound up about something, but it could be almost anything, as excitable as he was. Whatever he and Brian were up to was their business.

Two hours later the girls were helping me get dinner ready when I heard Mat's key in the door. His eyes went right to me and his smile looked...fragile? Hesitant. I smiled in return and went back to finishing the chicken marsala. I took the sliced mushrooms from Daisy and put them in the pan. You could never have too many mushrooms. Mushroom overload, yes. All the mushrooms.

The door closed and I heard Mat greet the girls, and a few seconds later hands were on my shoulders. I glanced at him and leaned over to give him a smooch, then asked, "Where's Brian?"

"He wanted to bring beer," Mat answered. "I wasn't going to tell him no."

"Good beer, I hope," I muttered under my breath. I was still traumatized by the piss water Craig had offered me last summer.

"That's all he drinks, thank god." His arms went around my waist and he squeezed me with a sort of shuddering breath.

I paused in stirring and glanced at the girls. "I think we're good, ladies." They gratefully took off, retreating up to the loft with Carmensita's tablet and Maxwell. They had the okay to go up there as long as they didn't get into any of Amanda's things and tidied up after themselves. The futon couch was up there, and I had given Amanda my queen bed in lieu of her old double. I couldn't wait for her to see it. Once they were gone I put my arm around Mat and kissed his cheek and murmured, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he said in a sigh, squeezing me again.

I didn't push. He seemed like he was just feeling either affectionate or wanting comfort from being stressed out over something, and he'd share if he felt like it. Or maybe he was still feeling emotional from this morning. That was certainly a possibility. "So what did your dad want earlier?" I asked.

"Oh, uh...just...you know. Talking about uh...today. He thought you sounded really great, and so did I, because you did, and that was so sneaky of you and Mom, and he was kind of in on it too all this time, that's pretty funny you know, and I uh, I asked again if they would reconsider moving up here and he said they just weren't ready for that and probably wouldn't be for a while and to stop asking about it so I was thinking maybe we could just rent out your house, I mean, he hinted that someday they might be willing to move up and I'd hate for the house to just be gone so I was wondering if maybe you'd be okay with that?" His voice rose at the end.

I turned the burner down and set down the spoon and turned to put my arms around him. "Yeah, of course, love," I murmured. He let out a shaky breath and held me tight, turning his face into my neck, and I rubbed his back and softly asked, "Mat honey, are you  _ sure  _ everything is okay?" I hated pressing him. I needed a push at times, sometimes I flat out needed a kick in the ass to get things out, but Mat didn't, yet I also hated seeing him like this, because he was clearly anxious about something.

"I'm good," Mat whispered. "Just an intense day all around, you know?"

"All right." I gave him a good, firm squeeze and held it, and I felt him gradually relax into it. I loosened my grip and turned to kiss his cheek, and when I heard Brian come through the door I turned back up the burner and stirred the food a bit more.

Brian called, "The adult beverages have arrived!"

I greeted him and he came over to join us, going right to where the bottle opener was in the correct drawer. Amazing. He popped open a beer and handed it to me with a clap on the shoulder that stung a little bit. Christ he was strong. I thanked him and Mat let go of me to take his beer, though he stayed close by to chip in with getting dinner ready, as did Brian.

I said to our friend, "I can't wait for Amanda to see the loft this weekend. It looks fantastic."

"It's a great space," he agreed. "Glad to see it getting some use."

"So...I think I'm going to rent out my house. It's just sitting there..."

"Seems the wisest course of action. It's a cute little place. Someone's bound to snap it up." He pointed his beer at me. "Ordinarily I'd recommend hiring a property management company, but you're right next door. Just do your research."

"I will. Thanks."

We finished making dinner and called the girls down to eat, and we sat around the dining room table, which fit us all now, and talked about what to do with my house. Brian had lots of good advice on renting it out, of course, because he was Brian Harding and one of the most competent human beings to walk this earth. I wasn't a very handy guy, but I thought I could manage doing this on my own without hiring a property manager. That would be at least $100 a month that I didn't feel like handing over to someone else. I would just do as Brian suggested and do a lot of research and make sure everything was legal, and of course hire Brian to make any repairs or fix anything that needed it. I would just have to be really careful about who I rented the place to. They would not only be my tenants but our next door neighbors.

Brian and Daisy left around 7:30, and when bedtime came Mat started acting...weird again. Not full out anxious, but there was definitely  _ something  _ on his mind, and I was at a loss as to what it was. Did it have to do with this morning? The music?

Once Carmensita was off to bed and we were in our room getting into our own I kept my lamp on and sat up on my elbow to watch him. His hair was down and he had his shirt off since it was another warm April. How could any man be so gorgeous and be with me? It was one of those eternal mysteries of the universe that would never be solved.

Mat saw me watching him and when I winked at him he laughed, looking bashful. God, he was adorable.

"I was thinking," I quietly said, "when Amanda comes home next week for spring break we should finally go get some cats."

His expression brightened as he approached. "Yeah! Yeah babe, let's do that. Two cats?"

"Definitely two cats." As Mat got into bed I went on, "Maybe we could get Brian's help building a catio."

Mat looked at me for a long moment, blinking, then said, "A whatio?"

"A catio. An outdoor enclosure that indoor cats can go into, to safely go outdoors."

He smiled. "Aww man, that would be cute. Yeah, let's think about it."

I motioned to him and said, "Roll over and I'll rub your back?" I thought he might protest a little, as he sometimes half-heartedly did, but instead he gave me a loving smile and laid on his stomach. He slid his hands under the pillow and turned his face away with a happy sigh.

He was so beautiful. I traced the tattoos on his left shoulder, black flowers and hearts and leaves and paisley swirls. It had never crossed my mind to get a tattoo. I wasn't a tattoo kind of guy, since I was bland and uncool and most importantly had about zero pain tolerance, but the artist in me could appreciate the beauty of them, and these were so well done.

"I've been thinking about getting another one," he murmured.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's been a couple years."

"What are you thinking about getting?"

"Maybe it's going to be a surprise."

I laughed and kissed his shoulder. "You're so mysterious, Mr. Sella." He laughed in return, and it was all I could do to not tickle him to hear more of it. I hated being tickled and assumed most other people hated it too, so I never would, but the urge was there. I settled instead for pulling his hair aside and kissing the back of his neck. All that warm brown skin and beautiful tattoos and my love for him were inspiring, and when he shifted his hips a bit on the bed, well, that was it for me.

I slid over to lay on top of him, keeping most of my weight off, and he sighed and murmured in encouragement as he pushed back against me. I trailed kisses along his shoulder and neck and he responded just as I hoped he would, as he always did.

I loved him so much.

As we snuggled together afterward the thought crossed my mind again: ask Mat to marry me. Propose to Mat.

All right, so...maybe I should. Just go ahead and do it, and whatever happened, happened. I just had to keep telling myself that he would probably not answer the way I wanted him to. Set my expectations low. Mat would very sweetly put me off, the way he had back in December, and we would keep going on the way we were. My house would get rented out, and I would insist on helping to pay his mortgage, since he would refuse to combine our finances, and I would just be patient and wait things out until he was ready to take that next step.

Mat twitched then rolled away, and I rolled the opposite way and picked up my phone, my mind too busy to sleep right now, with everything that had gone on today. So maybe...maybe I could do this. Propose to Mat. View it not as a now or never proposition but as a conversation starter, the way his mom had suggested. If I went into it with the expectation that he wouldn't say yes then I wouldn't feel so hurt when I didn't get the response I wanted.

Next Wednesday would be exactly one year from the day we met. Which...was a bit problematic as it was Trivia Night at Charcutiepie's. I wasn't about to propose to Mat in front of a crowd. I wasn't about to propose to him in front of anyone, partly due to his shyness and anxiety, partly because I was expecting maybe not a no but more of a 'not right now but maybe someday' kind of response and didn't want to put him on the spot. I also wasn't a big fan of making proposals public spectacles. But I could tell Hugo and Brian that I wanted to take Mat out to a special dinner that night and they'd be fine with it. The two of them could go head to head that night on their own, though maybe Brian could take Carmensita for the evening since I knew she liked going. Amanda would be home then too and would back me up.

I...had a plan? Maybe? Or at least the beginnings of one. The fanciest restaurant in Maple Bay was down by the waterfront, a really great seafood restaurant. Fish breath wasn't particularly romantic, but frankly no kind of breath was, and we both liked seafood. I could make the reservations for next Wednesday and tell Mat to keep the evening free. We could have a really nice dinner then take a walk along the waterfront if it wasn't raining, and then...then I supposed I would find someplace nice and just...pop the question.

I went to the restaurant's website, knowing they took online reservations, and booked a table for two at 6:00 for next Wednesday. There. I didn't bother checking the weather. It would be dry or it wouldn't. If it wasn't, I'd take a big umbrella. We would just have to snuggle close under it. I'd figure it out.

Wow. I was really going to do this. I was going to ask Mat to marry me.

The excitement and stress of the decision gave me a poor night's sleep, and when Mat got up the next morning I did everything in my power to not be cranky. I would just go back to sleep when he headed off to work. When Mat got up I stayed in bed and double checked our reservations in my email while he was in the shower. Wednesday, 6:00 PM. Dinner for two. All set.

When he came out of the shower to get dressed, I was lying in bed fighting not to fall back asleep, and Mat came over to kiss me and softly said, "You look like you didn't sleep well."

"Not well," I agreed. "So, I was thinking...next Wednesday…" Mat's face did something… interesting? It sort of...shivered, like several different emotions were fighting for space there and none of them were winning. "I…" I frowned at him as he swallowed and moved in a weird, almost robot-like fashion away from the bed to go get dressed. What the hell… "Is something wrong?"

"Nope. Everything's good. Great, even. Next Wednesday, it's...kind of a special day, right? I mean, not kind of, it  _ is  _ a special day, that's what you meant, right, it's one year since you moved here, the day we met, so yeah, next Wednesday!"

"I...was…" My eyes narrowed further as he pulled a tee shirt on and got tangled in it. "Mat honey, what...are you all right?"

"Great! So next Wednesday?" He got the tee shirt down over his head, but not before I saw a rivulet of sweat start inching down his ribs.

"I...was thinking we could go out to dinner or something. I made us reservations last night, at The Old Salt's Shanty, but...we could do something else if you want?"

"Oh, uh…" Mat chewed on his bottom lip. "Yeah, um, about that…"

Disappointed, I murmured, "It's all right, love, we can do something else. We could go up to Boston if you want?" 

His eyes widened and he waved his hands in front of him. "Oh no! No, that's fine, it's just...I kind of already made us reservations there," he said in a sheepish tone. "I uh...called yesterday afternoon while I was out with Brian. Made it for the same time and everything."

"Ohhh," I said in understanding. I smiled at him and said, "I'll just cancel mine, no worries."

He deflated a little and said, "I was hoping to surprise you, but...I guess great minds think alike?"

"Yes," I said with a bigger smile. I moved to get out of bed but he waved his hands again.

"No, stay in bed and go back to sleep, babe."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I got cozy again and hugged his pillow, and he finished getting dressed, kissed me again, then he was off for the day. I heard him lock the house on the way out. I snuggled further into the blankets and buried my nose in Mat's scent and quickly fell back asleep.

The sound of Carmensita leaving her room and getting in the shower woke me later, and I laid there for a moment confused before remembering that I had stayed in bed. I stayed there a few minutes more then got up, pulling on my underwear and pajamas before heading out to start her breakfast. I felt better than when I had first awoken and was glad that I had indulged myself a little and gone back to sleep. 

While I made her toast and eggs I cancelled my reservation for next Wednesday. I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't be the one taking Mat out to dinner, but we were still going to the nicest restaurant in Maple Bay, regardless of the name of the establishment, and I was still going to ask him to marry me after dinner. Maybe that was why Mat had been so jumpy since yesterday: he'd wanted to surprise me with dinner on the one year anniversary of me moving into the neighborhood and us meeting. I felt a little bad that I had spoiled his surprise, but he hadn't seemed upset about it, just a bit disappointed.

Maybe later that morning I could walk over and get my coffee then continue on towards the bay and scout out some potential proposal spots. He would see me walking that direction when I left the cafe, but I could take my tablet and say that I was going to sketch by the bay, and actually do it in case he asked to see. I'd been meaning to do so for a while anyway.

I got Carmensita off to school, then I texted Craig. I was not leaving my best bro out of this. I had more than learned my lesson that way last summer.

_ ME: Bro, got something important to talk to you about, let me know when you're free _

_ CRAIG: No problem! Let's do lunch, bro! _

We agreed to meet at noon near his work. It was going to be a busy day. Busier than I was used to, anyway.

At 8:45 I walked over to the Coffee Spoon, and when I first walked in Pablo didn't see me or hear the bells on the door jingle. He was laughing and talking on his phone while sort of sweeping, his back to the door. He'd been a lot more preoccupied lately and I wondered if he had a sweetheart. He was giggling in that certain way that told me he wasn't talking to his mom.

I didn't want to bother the kid, and the Coffee Spoon was basically home away from home, so I set my travel mug on the counter and took it upon myself to go back into the kitchen. Mat was in there still cleaning up the breakfast rush, and he lit up at the sight of me.

"Hey babe!" He came over for a kiss then asked, "Hungry?"

"A little," I replied. "I had some egg and toast with Carmen." I sighed happily and sat down on a stool while he warmed up a slice of banana bread. "God, it felt good to go back to sleep."

Mat laughed, "Yeah, I'm sure. You know, you don't have to get up with me every morning."

"I like getting up with you." He smiled brightly at me. I set my tablet case on the counter and said, "I think I might wander over to the harbor after this. Do some sketching, maybe a little painting."

"Aw, that sounds nice."

"And I'm having lunch with Craig--"

Pablo burst through the door, breathless. "Oh jeez, Mitchell," he gasped. "So sorry, man, I was… yeah, uh, on a call, I didn't hear you come in, I swear!"

I shook my head and waved him off. "No worries, really," I assured him. I winked at him and asked, "Someone special?" Christ, the moment the words left my mouth I wanted to punch myself. I sounded like an 80 year old man asking his grandson if he'd found a nice girl yet.

Pablo's eyes darted between me and Mat, then he visibly swallowed hard and whispered, "Yes, uh, sir, yes it is, do you uh want a coffee? What...what coffee?"

Sir? He was calling me sir? I stared at him and he let out a weak, self-conscious little laugh, and I slowly said, "Macchiato DeMarco...I guess?"

"Yes sir! Right away!" He fled back out the door.

Mat muttered, "What in the hell was that? Sir?"

"I wish I knew," I muttered back. "Is he seeing someone?"

"Maybe?" Mat set the warm buttered banana bread in front of me then pulled up a stool next to me. "He's been sort of...I don't know, spacey the last month or so? And really whacked out this week, just out of it, texting a lot more than usual, taking breaks to go outside and talk on the phone. It hasn't been a problem though, so I don't say anything."

Now that I was thinking about it, I'd noticed the same thing, off and on, but I was usually so wrapped up in my own thoughts that things like that didn't always register with me. "Well this wasn't a problem either. I hope he doesn't think I'm upset that he didn't see me come in."

"Nah, he'll be fine." Mat chuckled. "Cute though. He's a great kid. I hope whoever they are is good to him." He laughed again. "They'd better be or his mom will be all over the situation."

"Yes she will." Pablo and his mom had been through a lot together and were very protective of each other. I hoped that whoever he was enamored of was kind to him. I liked the kid a lot. And after all, he was kinda-sorta a business partner. Every so often while I was out and about in town I saw someone wearing a Coffee Spoon shirt, or saw a decal in their back window, as my car had, and felt a ridiculous amount of pride. I really loved that little spoon guy. The cafe sold a couple tee shirts and maybe a dozen decals a month. There really wasn't any profit in it, but it was nice to see. It would also be nice to see Pablo with someone. Mat and I both really liked him and thought he would be good for someone. He was turning out to be a pretty good businessman as well; in addition to the Coffee Spoon merchandise, he also was selling his mom's homemade apple butter, which I had to admit was outstanding, and I had high standards for apple butter.

I had my banana bread with my beloved partner, got my coffee, then took my leave to head towards the bay. Mat didn't suspect a thing and seemed pleased that I was getting out to do something art-related. I knew that he really wanted me to start painting again, and… maybe I sometimes thought about it. Space was sort of at a premium in Mat's house, as it had been in mine. I could maybe set up a corner of the loft, but I didn't want Amanda dealing with that while she was home, which granted would be mostly on holiday breaks and the summers. It was just so much easier to paint digitally.

Maybe...maybe I could invest in a better drawing tablet. A professional-grade drawing tablet, not the little off-brand thing I toted around with me. And I would definitely keep doing so, for sketches, but maybe I could convince myself to pay for a really nice drawing tablet. One I could do full paintings on. Paintings I could sell, as another source of income. I could slightly expand my work area at home to accommodate a big tablet, or just bring it out when I wanted to paint. I'd have to think about it and maybe talk it over with Mat. Maybe our finances weren't combined, but it was still a big expenditure.

When I got down to the harbor it was a bit windy, but I started scouting out potential proposal spots. There was a nice paved walking path all along the bay, with plenty of benches. I felt a twinge of old uneasiness when I saw Joseph's yacht and pointedly ignored it. He was a good neighbor, and his personal problems were his own, as long as he kept them his own and didn't involve anyone else in them. I still felt like I'd dodged a bullet there, though. A big one. My thoughts on that hadn't changed at all in the last ten months.

I found a nice bench with a good view of the harbor, and took a seat and started doing what I had claimed I was going to do and did some sketching, just to have something to show for it. It was a nice bench, sturdy, with a pretty view. A sunset would have been nice, but we were sort of on the wrong side of the continent for that. There was good lighting out there though, old-fashioned lamp posts that cast a nice gentle glow all along the harbor. Yeah, that would be a good spot, as long as no one else had taken it. I'd keep it in mind.

I stayed there for about half an hour, sketching the harbor and the boats, and took a few pictures for reference, then I moseyed back home. I peeked through the Coffee Spoon's front window and saw Mat behind the counter reading something on his phone, looking deep in thought, so I hurried by to keep him from seeing me so as not to interrupt him. I had to get home and get a bit more work done before I met Craig across town for lunch.

We met up at a poke bowl place we both really liked, did the obligatory bro greeting hug, got our food, and sat down outside. It was a bit cool out there, but no one else was sitting outside, and I wanted to talk in semi-privacy. I didn't get to hang out with Craig nearly as much as we both would like, since he was still a really busy guy.

"So bro, tell me what's up," Craig prompted.

I prodded the bits of spicy tuna with my chopsticks and quietly said, "Next week makes it a year since I moved to our street."

"Hey, that's right! Hard to believe, huh?"

"Yeah. It feels like forever sometimes, and other times it's hard to believe it's already been that long. And...Mat and I have been together for eight months, so..." I smiled at him. I was just going to get it out there right away. "I'm going to ask him to marry me."

Craig's eyes widened dramatically then he let out a cheer and jumped from his seat to pull me out of mine into a hug. "Broooo!"

I grunted as he squeezed me. How the hell were all my friends so much stronger than me? I went to the gym almost every day. Was I maybe this strong and didn't realize it? I squeezed Craig back as a test and didn't receive a grunt. He didn't react at all. It was like squeezing a steel girder. Did I need to lift more? I tended to focus mostly on cardio, in a vain attempt to lose my gut, but maybe I should vary my workouts a bit more?

"Oh my god, bro, you're getting married!" he said in delight.

"If he says yes," I cautiously replied.

Craig put me out at arms' length and frowned at me. "What do you mean, if? Why wouldn't he say yes?" He made a sound of understanding. "Right, the talk you had," he murmured. "It's been four months, though. You guys've lived together for two and a half months, bro. You're raising Carmen with him."

I blinked at him. "I...yes, I...I guess I am." I helped out with Carmen, sure, but...I hadn't ever put it like that in my mind. I got her off to school every morning with breakfast and a hug, and made sure that she had all her homework together and enough money in her lunch account, which of course she always did. We did chores together and when the three of us sat on the couch she ended up between me and Mat as often as she ended up on her dad's other side. I knew she didn't think 'dad' when she thought of me, or at least I was pretty sure of that, and of course there was the recent incident where she hadn't called me to get her book even though I was home, which I hadn't said anything to her about, and didn't plan to. It had been just her and Mat for pretty much her entire life, and it was going to take time for her to think of me as one of her dads. I totally got that. But still, yes, I was helping Mat raise Carmen.

"Do you really think he's going to say no?"

"I don't think he'll say no outright, more like...not right now?" My shoulders slumped a bit under Craig's hands. "I think I'll get more of what I got in December, to be honest."

Craig squeezed me then let go and sat, and I did as well as he said, "Maybe he's just scared of getting married. Because of last time."

I stared at him in disbelief. Could that be part of it? Being scared to get married because he lost Rosa a few years after? I didn't think so, but I couldn't discount it as not being in the back of Mat's mind, subconsciously, the way he worried about things. I was a bit of a worrier too, as far as trying to figure out all the ways something could go wrong, but I was usually able to do a risk assessment and not get anxious, because I just wasn't prone to anxiety. Mat couldn't help it, and it sometimes happened with him for no apparent reason at all, though I liked to think it had gotten better since we'd started dating, and better yet since living together, knowing he always had me there for backup.

"Or not," Craig said with a shrug before taking a bite of fish and rice.

"Maybe subconsciously?"

"Maybe."

"I think it's mostly financial though," I stated. "He feels like his debt is his alone and I shouldn't help with any of it."

Craig shook his head. "It isn't anything the rest of us don't have. And the rest of us didn't have a spouse with cancer. I don't know how he managed to get the cafe off the ground after that, bro, I really don't."

I poked at my food and murmured, "I don't know either." I was so proud of Mat and everything he had accomplished. He was so much braver than I was, and smarter. I would have crumbled under the things he had dealt with since Rosa got sick, and I sure as hell wouldn't have managed to forge ahead and open my own business after that. Rosa had been the driving force at first behind the cafe, sure, but it had been Mat's dream just as long. He loved his music, but even as a kid he'd liked the idea of having a little coffee shop and being a barista, oddly enough. I wouldn't have been in any sort of place mentally to go ahead with that no matter whose dream it had been. Buying the little house bayside last year had been as much as I could manage after Alex was gone, and even then it had taken me a year and a half before I could bring myself to even think about it.

"Well hey, all you can do is ask and see what he says, right?"

"Yes, but…" I frowned at my poke bowl. It was delicious, but I was having trouble enjoying it. I had set my expectations low, but… "It'll still hurt when he doesn't say yes."

_ "If _ he doesn't say yes. I think he will." I grunted, and Craig said, "Seriously, I do."

"That's nice of you to say."

Craig rolled his eyes. "So what's your plan, bro?"

"We're having dinner at the Shanty, then I was going to take him for a walk along the harbor. I picked out a bench--" Craig snickered as he ate, and I narrowed my eyes at him and continued, " _ Anyway _ , it has a nice view of the bay. I was going to sit him down there and pop the question."

"Aw hey, I'm just joking bro, that sounds nice." He grinned at me. "He's going to say yes, bro, just you wait and see."

I smiled at him. He was so supportive. "Thanks, bro. I hope so."

"So are you going to do the engagement ring thing? Or something else?"

The smile dropped off my face. "I...I didn't think that far," I stammered. "I mean, I don't think we need rings, but… Do you think I should do something?" Craig made an  _ I don't know sound _ and shrugged. I didn't know if Mat had even worn a wedding ring when he was married to Rosa. I hadn't thought to look that closely at the photos when I'd helped him scan them and put them online.

We ate our lunch and he gave me an update on him and Ashley, and how they'd talked about her moving all the way in again once the kids were out of school, and maybe remarrying. They had taken things slowly, working out their issues, and it hadn't been a painless process by far, but they both felt like it was worth it, and the kids were happy to have both their parents back in the house. I'd be glad to have Ashley in the neighborhood. She was a friend, an old friend, and though we both had changed a lot over the years it had been in good ways.

I felt better after talking to Craig, as I always did, and I went home feeling...hopeful, maybe?

When I got home I went back to my computer and pulled up the photo sharing account I'd made for Mat. I hadn't looked at the photos since putting them up. I went back to the few wedding photos they had, and both had worn very simple bands of either white gold or silver, and those rings continued through the few years after that, but...ow. Ow ow ow. It hurt, seeing the vibrant young woman Rosa had been gradually fade over that year she'd fought cancer. I hoped Mat would be okay next month when the ten year anniversary rolled around. He seemed fine, but it was always hard to say when grief would decide to rear its ugly head.

So Mat had worn a wedding ring up until Rosa died. And I wanted rings for both of us. I still had mine and Alex's rings, tucked away somewhere. I wanted to give them to Amanda someday, not necessarily when she got married but when the time felt right. Maybe the day Mat and I married it would feel right.

No. No maybe about it. I would give her the rings when Mat and I married. Because we would, someday. I just wished that I knew when that might be.


	36. Chapter 36

I cringed as Mat's fork clattered onto his plate and the restaurant went silent for a few seconds before the low murmur continued. He wiped his sweaty, shaky hands on his napkin then picked the fork up and resumed picking at his food. "Mat honey," I murmured.

"Yeah babe?" Mat glanced at me and tried to smile, but he looked like he was coming apart at the seams.

"What's wrong?" I asked, trying not to sound as tired as I felt. Mat had been on edge ever since he came home from work, and nothing I did could calm him down. I had no idea how he couldn't be dehydrated at this point from how much he had been sweating all afternoon. I understood with sudden, startling clarity how exhausting it must have been for both Mat and Alex dealing with my depression when I was in the middle of it, because this was just...really kind of draining. I'd never seen him like this before, not this bad, other than that open mic night last August, but he had been stressed out over the performance art weirdos and the anticipation of asking me out. If anyone should be nervous tonight it was me. I couldn't figure out what was going on with him. I hadn't pressed all that hard, but at this point neither of us were really enjoying our dinner.

"I uh...shit." Mat cleared his throat.

I reached across the table and took his hand, and good god it was moist. It was very, very moist. I held it anyway and said, "Whatever it is, it's okay, all right? If you won't tell me what it is, even if it isn't anything in particular...everything's okay."

Mat stared at me, looking miserable, then he tried to smile again. "Yeah," he whispered. He nodded, once. "Yeah, I know. But...sometimes knowing doesn't help."

"We could box all this up and take it home if--"

He squeezed my hand and interjected, "No! No uh, I'm okay. I'm...good. I don't want to ruin our dinner."

I sighed, "You're not ruining our dinner, I promise." I squeezed his hand then let go. "Now eat your squid tubes, dear."

Mat laughed and seemed to relax a little. "Funny guy." He did continue eating his calamari though, which to be fair wasn't in tubes but rings, but 'calamari rings' wasn't quite as amusing.

Rings. I hadn't gotten an engagement ring for Mat, and hadn't planned to anyway. It just hadn't seemed right. Instead I had gotten him a bracelet online, a braided black leather cord with a sterling silver infinity symbol in the middle, with a nice, sturdy silver clasp. It had arrived yesterday, just in the knick of time. I had it in my pocket, in the pouch it had arrived in. It hadn't cost much, but I really thought he would like it. It seemed his style, anyway. I wasn't trying to mark him as mine or anything, but I wanted him to wear something that reminded him every day of me and my love for him, even if he didn't say yes. And I was fully prepared for him not to, especially with as wound up as he was. I could very well picture him slightly freaking out and saying he just couldn't think about that right now. I was still going to ask, though. I wouldn't be dissuaded from my mission.

Somehow we made it through dinner, though it was mostly me carrying the conversation. I talked about how nice it would be to have that extra money coming in from renting out the house; I had put the ad out Monday, but there hadn't been any calls yet, so I hoped it wouldn't take too long to find a tenant. I asked him where he wanted to go on vacation this summer with the girls, beyond the few weekends we had already reserved for camping, one of which was a group camp with Craig's family and Brian and Daisy and their dog. Even Robert had said he might show up for a night with Betsy, which would be a blast. I hoped.

I eventually got him talked down off whatever ledge he was standing on so that by time we had dessert he was fairly calm and contributing to the conversation. He danced around the topic of money, and wouldn't commit to a vacation with the girls, at least not on the spot, but he was talking.

After dinner, Mat brought up taking a walk along the harbor on his own, which played nicely into my plans. Considering what I was about to do, I was pretty calm, though Mat's hand was sweaty again as we held hands and walked. It was a bit chilly out and the waterfront shops were closed, so there weren't many people out, which also suited my purposes. I would walk Mat along, keep things light, sit him down, then propose.

Mat cleared his throat and said, "So uh…about this summer."

I smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I can hardly wait," I said with pleasure. "I was thinking we could take the girls berry picking at some point? Maybe a couple times. Alex and I used to make strawberry freezer jam. Or pickles? I've always wanted to learn how to can. We could make our own pickles and can them."

"Aw babe," Mat murmured in a touched voice. "Yeah. Yeah, I want to do _all_ of that. That sounds great." He squeezed my hand and leaned against my shoulder. "It makes me happy every time you talk like that, you know? About the future."

I smiled more broadly at him. If only he knew. My pre-selected bench was coming into sight and it was empty. Perfect. "Well, it's been on my mind a lot lately." I fingered the pouch in my pocket.

"Yeah, me...me too," he said, sounding a bit breathless.

I let go of his hand and put my arm around his shoulders, and he slid his arm around my waist. It was awkward, walking like this, but we just walked slowly to make it work, and it felt good to have my arm around him, and his around me. I just loved this man so much, and I was so happy right now. He was probably going to put me off when I asked, but I was okay with that. We were making plans for the future regardless, and someday he would be ready. I was sure of that.

Mat went on in that same tone, "So I was uh...this summer. I was thinking, you know uh...in August. We should go somewhere, just you and me. A uh...a big vacation. It'll...shit." He wiped his hand across his forehead. "It'll be a year. That we've been together."

"Yes! Let's do that. Where were you thinking?" Almost to the bench. Almost go time.

"Do you have a passport?"

My eyebrows rose. "Yeah, of course." Alex and I had gone to Canada and Mexico a number of times, and had planned on taking bigger vacations once Amanda had graduated and we'd be free to travel more without having to worry about taking her out of school, so we'd always maintained passports as the easiest way to travel.

"I was thinking...we could go to the Caribbean? Aruba, maybe?"

"Really!" I said in surprise. That seemed...amazing, really amazing, but wow, on the expensive side. That was the kind of vacation you saved for, well, special times, and I supposed our one year anniversary was pretty special. And it wasn't as if we were going to be having a honeymoon any time soon, so we might as well. If he didn't say yes tonight, maybe the vacation would be a good time to try proposing again. Maybe by then he'd be ready.

"Yeah, I thought...oh man." Mat moved away from me to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his face. The poor guy.

"Come here, love." I took him by the arm and led him over to the bench and sat him down. I sat next to him and leaned in to kiss him, and he gazed at me with huge eyes and started nearly shredding the handkerchief in his hands, the way he was working at it.

"So do you want to do that?" he prompted, his voice pitched too high and trembling a bit as he took my hand.

"Yes, I would love to, but you're going to have to let me pay for half of it." He grimaced, and I said in a patient voice, "Mat honey, look, we're going to have to have another...um, number crunching session, I guess? When the house gets rented out." This was it. _Now. Do it now_. I gripped his hand and shifted to slide off the bench to get on one knee. "Or--"

"Or you could just marry me?"

I froze in place as my jaw dropped.

Mat tittered, looking like he was in pain, and went on in a rush, "Yeah, 'cause see we wouldn't have to crunch any numbers 'cause we could just combine everything together you know, no you and me just us, right? At least I think that was what you wanted, to combine our finances and have just one bank account between us, so you could put me on mine or you could go on yours whichever way you want, no, I meant me on yours or you on mine, fuck, okay, so...so if we got married we could do it in August, maybe on our one year anniversary and we could honeymoon in Aruba, and I know that isn't a ton of time for planning but I was thinking you already had a big wedding with Alex and maybe this one could be kind of quiet but I guess to do that you'd have to actually say yes, so what d'you say babe, will you marry me?"

I made some kind of strangled squeaky sound, and when what he was saying finally registered I took several gasping breaths and then, of course, started crying.

" _Mitchell_ ," he pleaded. "I...I can't tell if...well?"

"Yes!" I blubbered. I threw my arms around him and he held me tight, then he let out a relieved laugh and squeezed me tighter.

"Man, I thought I was going to pass out," he whispered. "Don't leave me hanging like that, babe."

I let go of him and took his hand, and he handed me the sweaty handkerchief. It would do. I croaked, "Honey, I...I was going to ask _you_."

"What?" Mat breathed. "You were what?"

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. "The restaurant. That was why I made the reservations. The other day when I came out here to sketch, I was looking for a place to ask. I picked this bench. I was just getting ready to propose when you interrupted me." And by god, I was going to do it anyway. While he gaped at me I slid off the bench to one knee, holding his hand. "Mat Sella, will you do me the honor of being my husband?"

  
Mat put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh. "You're shitting me!" he exclaimed in amazement, tears filling his eyes.

"I shit you not." I wiped my nose then put the handkerchief in my pocket and drew out the pouch. "I um, wasn't going to get you a ring, and...frankly I sort of, well, not sort of, I was pretty sure you wouldn't say yes--"

"Why wouldn't I say yes!" he exclaimed tearfully.

"It was just...easier on me to think you wouldn't."

"Jesus, Mitchell, you… Come here." He pulled me up off my knee, which was already starting to hurt, onto the bench next to him. He grabbed me by the front of my jacket and gave me a long, lingering kiss.

When we broke away I asked, "So is that a yes?"

Mat laughed loudly. "I was the one who asked you first, remember?"

"Still not hearing a yes."

"Yes!" he laughed. He tugged me in for another kiss then threw his arms around me. "We're getting married!"

"We are!"

God, we were _getting married_ . We were _engaged_. I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it. I held him tight and tried not to start crying again, happy tears, as we rocked back and forth. I was still in shock. Poor Mat, though. He'd made himself a complete wreck over this. He had to have known I would say yes. He had known since early December that I wanted this.

We pulled back at the same time and wiped our eyes, and I took his hand and pressed the pouch into it. "I got this for you. Instead of a ring."

"Mitchell!" he squawked in disbelief.

"It's nothing big or expensive, but I wanted to get you something, and if you don't like it, that's fine."

Mat gave me one of _those_ looks, then he sighed and opened the pouch. "Oh man," he whispered as he took out the bracelet. "Wow."

"It really isn't…" I trailed off as he looked at me over the top of his glasses again.

He lowered his eyes to the bracelet again. "This is just...wow. Beautiful, babe," he murmured. He smiled briefly, his eyes glistening again. "I love it."

He held it out to me and I unfastened the clasp then wound it around his left wrist and fastened it in place. The act felt so...official. Mat drew in a deep breath as he watched me then looked up at me again. I stroked his cheek and quietly said, "I really... _really_ love you."

"I know you do," he whispered. "All the time. And I love you too." He took my hands and held them in his, turning his wrist a little so that the light caught the silver. "So is it okay? Getting married in August on our anniversary?"

"It's _perfect_ ," I said with utter sincerity. "So you want to honeymoon in Aruba?"

"Yeah."

"It's going to be amazing," I gushed. God, I was so happy and excited right now I felt like I was going to explode. "Where do you want to do the deed?"

"Get married?" I nodded. He said, "Yeah, see, I talked to Brian about that…"

"Ohhhh," I said with a smile. "So _that's_ what was up." No wonder he had been so worked up that night when he came home. "What did Brian think we should do?"

"Close off our street and have it right there."

I stared at him. "In..the street? Like...the middle of the cul-de-sac?"

"No, I um...actually asked Damien if we could do it in his backyard, and have the party out in the cul-de-sac. He..." Mat laughed. "He offered to get ordained and marry us. Perform the ceremony."

My eyes widened further. "Yes," I whispered. How many of our friends had he talked to about this? I decided I didn't care. " _Yes_ ," I repeated happily, squeezing his hands. Damien's yard was amazing, and while it couldn't hold everyone that we would want to invite, it was big enough for our very closest friends and family, and for him to offer to do the ceremony too was such a huge gift.

"He even said he could do some sort of...I don't know, he said he could wire things so the people outside can watch too. So no one gets left out. A big screen and cameras." Mat made a face. "He said they'd be discreet. Not in our face or anything. He was pretty excited about the idea, I don't know, if he's willing to offer his garden and do the ceremony I'm not going to tell him no. It'd be nice for everyone to be able to watch. But back in the garden I was thinking just my mom and dad, the girls, Craig and Brian as our best men?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding slowly. Thinking. Just our families and our closest friends. Except… "My um...brothers." Mat let out a breath and smiled at me. "I think by then I'll want my brothers there," I stated.

He said in approval, "That's great, babe. Yeah, I think that would mean a lot to them, and you."

"I think so." I would call Brad tomorrow and tell him the good news, then I would text Greg and Michael. I was meeting with Greg at the end of the month; I didn't think I could handle both Greg and Mike at once, not at first, no matter how happy I was. I knew my limits. I smiled at Mat and said, "Well your parents will be relieved that you're finally making an honest man out of me."

Mat laughed and rolled his eyes. "My parents," he said in exasperation. "You know why my dad wanted to talk last week? After I caught you and Mom practicing? When I called him later that afternoon he started reading me the riot act about not marrying you."

Oh no.

"When he texted right away all he'd intended to do was ask me why we hadn't talked about it yet then when I called him he said he'd overheard you talking to Mom." Mat look at me with sympathy. "She had you on speaker phone, babe."

Oh god! "I wouldn't have said any of that if I'd known," I said in a mild panic.

Mat squeezed my hand and said, "It's okay. And we're getting married!"

I nodded and smiled a little. "Yes." But...but what if Mat had only asked me because his parents pushed him into it? I didn't want to be proposed to under pressure, least of all parental pressure. I wanted him to ask me because he wanted me to be his husband. I wanted him to ask me for me.

But then how was that any different from me getting the idea to propose from Bev? I wouldn't have done this without that little push either.

What if Bev had put me on speakerphone knowing Doug was around and was planning to talk to Mat?

The thought stunned me as Mat leaned in for another kiss, smiling against my lips, but I refused to believe it. Bev could never be some kind of mastermind or would do anything that even hinted of subterfuge, beyond her secretly helping me with piano lessons, which of course was no longer a secret.

Mat hugged me to him again, and as he held me he said, "When I came home last week and saw you playing and realized what you were doing, and that you'd been working all that time on it just to surprise me… All the things you've done for me this last year, and knowing that you'll keep on doing all those things, and more… I almost asked you right then and there. The words were _right there_ , but...I wanted it to be special, you know? For you."

My hold on him tightened. So it hadn't been Doug's idea. He might've given it more of a push, but to know that Mat had been thinking it before talking to his dad, well, it helped to know that. It helped a lot.

He added in amused, mock offense, "I can't believe you thought I would say no."

I mumbled, "More along the lines of 'not yet'."

"Oh babe," Mat sighed. He sat back to look me in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I know we had that talk back in December and it's just been hanging there ever since. And I still don't... _like_ the thought of combining things, but the money situation is what it is, and if I waited for it to be just the way I wanted it we'd never get anywhere, and I'm not going to let something like money keep me from marrying the man I love."

I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the little whimper that slipped out.

Mat ran his hand back over my head then held the back of it. "Hey," he soothed, "everything's going to be... _great_. You know? It's all going to come together, and we're...we're going to grow old together, the way Alex and Rosa didn't get to." His voice caught, and I saw him swallow as his eyes grew wet. "They'd be happy for us though, I know that."

"They would," I whispered as I nodded, near tears again myself.

Mat and I hugged again and we sat like that for...I wasn't sure how long, but it was a long time, saying nothing, happy but both of us really missing Alex and Rosa at that moment. It was impossible not to.

We had each other though. We would always have each other. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to us this time around.

We eventually headed home to tell the girls the good news, and after the screaming subsided the crying started, then all four of us were crying and hugging. Family. This was our family. Amanda called Carmensita her baby sister, and Mat told Carmensita that I was going to be her Pop or whatever she wanted to call me when she was ready. I could tell she wasn't, yet, but we had time. We got ourselves together and our tears dried up and we assured the girls that they would be as involved in the wedding planning as they wanted to be, and they wanted to be an awful lot.

Once our eyes weren't so red we had Amanda take a nice picture of the two of us, and we posted it on DadBook and changed our status to Engaged, and the congratulations came pouring in. Even Joseph was happy for us this time and offered to help with whatever we needed, and we told him we might need his help with the reception and where and when we were having it, and he was on board. All our friends were. I wasn't sure that I would call Joseph a friend, but he was being friendly, and he was a neighbor, and he knew how to throw a damned good get-together, and I wasn't going to turn down that kind of help, or what might potentially be an olive branch. Mary texted her congratulations as well, as did Ashley.

Mat texted the photo and message to both his parents and his phone immediately rang, and we all went on speaker phone. They were both ecstatic, or as ecstatic as Doug ever got. They saved the date and swore they would be there. I was certain that they didn't want to miss seeing their son get married this time.

By time we fell into bed we were exhausted, and Mat still had to get up and go to work the next morning. We still found the time to talk for a bit, about the wedding and honeymoon, about the reception, which I could tell he was dreading a bit. I was honestly excited for it, even if I hated being the center of attention almost as much as Mat did. I was looking forward to having all the people I cared about in one place. Maybe I didn't care a whole lot for my brothers, yet, but they were family. Sort of. My closest blood relations, anyway. I would make sure I sent invitations to the old friends I stayed in touch with, too. I wanted everyone to share in our special day, and maybe I also wanted everyone to know that we were okay. That I was okay.

I really was okay. I was getting _married_ again. I was going to be someone's husband again. I had a family again. My mental health was the best it had ever been, my daughter was doing well in college, she was happy and healthy, Carmensita was too, I was taking up the piano again, getting to know my brothers again, I had two people in my life that had told me that I'd be calling them Mom and Dad soon, I had plans for the future, so many plans…

I laid there unable to sleep as Mat drifted off against me. There was so much to do. Wedding plans to figure out. Invitations to mail, once we made a list of invitees. Honeymoon reservations to make. Someone would have to take care of Carmensita, but maybe Mat's parents could stay in our house with her while we were gone, since they would be up here. We would have to make sure to invite Carmensita's other grandmother too, Rosa's mother. And Rosa's other relatives that Mat was close to, like Gabby and Luis. Beyond that were the details, of combining our finances and coming up with a new household budget, something Mat and I both were fairly particular about. I had a daughter in college that I was trying to keep free of student loans, and that was my biggest expense, but once I was able to rent out the house I would have money coming in every month to go towards Mat's mortgage.

So much to figure out. I eased away from Mat and grabbed my phone without disturbing him and created a notepad and started jotting all these things down, feeling twinges of a sad nostalgia trying to horn in on my happiness. I remembered the excitement of planning for my first wedding. God, this fall would have been our 25th year together, and our 15th wedding anniversary.

Shit. _Do_ not _think about that, Mitchell. Alex would be so happy for you right now, you know he would._

I knew that, but I missed him so much just then, no matter who was sleeping next to me.

I gave up trying to sleep and carefully slid out of bed without jostling it and put my feet in my slippers and pulled on my discarded sweatshirt at the foot of the bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom. If I laid there any longer I'd start crying or tossing and turning, and Mat was going to be short on sleep as it was.

My work computer was about as far away from the bedroom as you could get in the house, and it was easier to use than the phone. I could sit there and do a little initial wedding planning while waiting to feel sleepy, and maybe Amanda might see I was there and come down to join me.

I woke up my computer and sat down at it. It was only about 10:30, which would've been an early night for me once upon a time. It was spring recess week, so I could sleep in tomorrow, though I'd feel bad about it when Mat got up.

Aruba. Wow, what a beautiful place. Nice weather year round, outside the hurricane zone, LGBTQ-friendly, easy to get to, and there were a few nonstop flights there from BOS, if we booked things soon. Alex and I had honeymooned in Hawaii, and had taken Amanda with us, but we had been together for ages by then. I wanted this to be a real honeymoon, just me and Mat for a week or however long we could manage. It was a tiny island, but there were plenty of outdoorsy things to do, beaches to lie on… Even if we hardly did anything, it would be wonderful. Mat and I would definitely have to book the honeymoon first, to make sure we had everything squared away early. The wedding would come together easily enough, as casual as it would be, but I'd have to make sure I helped Damien and Joseph with whatever they needed so they weren't stressed out.

August wedding... It would be warm, and the pavement would get hot out in the cul-de-sac. We'd need canopies to keep the sun off people, and the food. I wondered if Joseph would be willing to man the grill, if Mat and I bought all the food? He still had the most flawless grill work I had ever seen. We could keep things really casual, chicken and burgers, hot dogs for the kids. Coolers for the drinks. Mat would probably want to set up the sound system and the music, though he would have to leave the manning of the music to someone else. I would have to have some of my music in there too, though.

God, maybe...maybe we could have karaoke at the wedding. Would that be tacky? Maybe save it for near the end of the reception when people had been drinking for a while and inhibitions were lowered? I would really like to sing some love songs to Mat. Maybe we could hire Spinmaster Quinn as the DJ/KJ, if he promised not to talk. At all. I would really have to insist on him saying not one single word to the guests--

The door out to the garage opened, and it startled me until I saw that it was Amanda. I drew in a breath to warn her I was still up when I heard her giggle and saw a phone up to her ear.

"Of course I do," she said in a tone of assurance, her voice soft to avoid waking anyone. "No, of course not. Don't worry about it, okay? He's got to find out sooner or later." Long pause. "He _likes_ you. He isn't going to start sharpening a knife in front of you or anything, he isn't like that. Like, at all. You've been watching too many movies or something, boopie."

What...the...hell? What the hell! I watched in disbelief as my daughter went to the kitchen counter to crack open her soda. Amanda was dating someone? My child was dating someone and hadn't told me?

And...and she was dating someone I liked? That I knew? How the hell was that even possible when she had spent most of the last eight months a thousand miles away from here! She hadn't even come home for a visit in March, had gone home with her friend Grace instead for a long weekend.

"Well if you don't tell him I'm going to," she went on in soft warning. "Like, tomorrow." Pause. "You know what, just let me do it," she sighed in sympathy. "This has got you so wound up. It's like Mat's rubbing off on you or something. You should've just told him last week before I came home."

I whimpered in bewilderment, and Amanda squeaked and spun around, eyes wide and horrified.

 _Pablo_. My child, my baby girl, was apparently dating Pablo. Christ on a cracker, my daughter was dating Mat's employee. The one that had annoyed her so much last summer, that she had only come to peaceful terms with back in January. The green-haired kid. The one who had been wearing a dirty, hole-ridden, midriff baring top the first time we met.

God, I was so shallow. I had just been thinking last week about what a great kid he was. And he was.

"Pop!" she whispered in shock. "Uhh, I've got to go," she said in to the phone, her voice shaking. "No no no, I've got it all… Ugh, no. Ugh, fine." Amanda clutched the phone to her chest and slowly approached me, the way one would approach a cornered animal of uncertain temperament. "Daddy? I um…" She grimaced. "I'm sorry?"

I grunted, unsure of what to say. One second I was making wedding plans, the next I was being blindsided by the news that my daughter had...a boyfriend? A boyfriend that I knew, that I saw nearly every day. Could he be a boyfriend from a thousand miles away?

"He um… I...I've been, um, sorta...dating Pablo? Long distance? And he uh...wants to talk to you?"

I got up from my seat and went out into the garage, flipping the lights back on, and Amanda meekly followed me out and closed the door behind her.

"Pop!" she protested. "Say something! You're freaking me out!"

I muttered, "I'm not angry, honey. At either of you. I just...wish…" I couldn't finish, shaking my head. I wasn't angry. I was _hurt_. That Amanda had her first real boyfriend and hadn't confided in me. I wasn't upset with Pablo; I got his reasons for being a little scared, for all the stereotypical reasons. No, it was Amanda I was upset with. I held out my hand for the phone, and Amanda stared up at me with huge, glistening eyes for a moment before slowly handing it over. "Pablo."

Pablo croaked, "Uhh, Mr. Rivera, sir?"

"Please stop calling me that. I'm not angry. At either of you. You're both adults."

"Yes s...Mitchell. I uhh...maybe should've said something last week. I'm like... _really_ sorry."

"You don't need my permission to date my daughter. She's her own person." And I'd always wanted that for her, but...not so much that she couldn't even bring this up to me. "Just be kind to each other, okay? You've always been a good...young man, and I don't want to see you get hurt either. Just...be good to each other. That's all."

"Okay. Uh...thank you."

"Sure." I handed the phone back to Amanda.

She took it back, still staring at me with the same sorrowful, scared expression, then she said into the phone, "I'll um, see you tomorrow? Yeah. Okay. Bye." She disconnected the call then clutched the phone to her chest. "Daddy," she said in a broken voice. "I'm really sorry. That I didn't tell you. I wanted to but he was scared. He begged me not to tell you."

I sighed and shook my head, my shoulders slumping as I rubbed my eyes. I felt her hand on my arm and I pulled her into a hug. "I'm not mad, honey," I promised. "I'm...okay, yes, I'm a little hurt that you never said anything to me, but if it's just because Pablo was scared of how I would react then I understand. I just really want to make sure that I haven't done or said anything that would make you feel like you couldn't tell me." And it actually kind of hurt a bit too that Pablo had been so afraid of my reaction. I considered myself a very laid-back guy with a mild disposition. The only time that Pablo had ever seen me lose my temper was the day I first saw Brad again, and frankly I found my response pretty justified.

"God, Dad, no!" she cried. "It isn't anything like that, I swear!"

"It's just...your business is your own, sweetie, especially things like this that are really personal, but...I just want to make sure that I never make you feel like you can't trust me."

"Never. You never have."

I squeezed her. "Good. I love you so much, and I want you to be happy. You could do worse for a first boyfriend than Pablo."

"Yeah, I love you too Pop, but um...he isn't my first boyfriend," she said in a careful tone.

I blinked in surprise as I stared out over her head at Mat's gear in the garage. "Oh."

"I've dated a couple guys before this, at college. Just casually. I'm not um...I've just...I've been careful. I just want you to know that whatever I've done...I've been careful."

"Okay," I whispered. I hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. I wasn't sure I was understanding her correctly, but if I was...well, she was a smart girl. No, young woman. She was a smart, capable young woman who could manage herself and whatever experiences she chose to have. I'd tried so hard from the time she was little to make her feel safe but also confident and self-sufficient, no matter how clingy I had gotten after Alex's death. We'd both needed that time to cling to each other, but that was long over. Still, here she was, hugging her dad. I hoped she always would. After a minute I told her, "I hope Pablo isn't working himself up over this. I meant what I said to him. He's a good...guy." Not kid. Young enough to be my kid, but he wasn't a child, and neither was Amanda.

"He's really sweet," she gushed. "I know it seems weird, considering, but...it just sort of happened? Gradually? We had a really good time hanging out in January, you know, when we sorted things out and he stopped trying so hard, and we started texting every so often after that, then he was finally able to afford to get a laptop for at home and we did video chat a few times, and...I don't know, he's just so sweet. And funny. And he tries so hard to take care of his mom, as hard as she works, and his dad was never any help at all, I mean, he barely even remembers him, how sad is that?"

I made a sound of understanding, though I couldn't help thinking I would've rather had an absent father than the asshole who'd raised me. I wasn't about to say that, though. But poor Pablo. No wonder he looked up to Mat so much. It worried me, though, that Pablo had thought I would come down on him for dating Amanda. I was going to have to go to the Coffee Spoon tomorrow and clear the air between us. Not a man-to-man or anything like that. Of course not.

"I'm just sorry this came up tonight," she went on. "This was yours and Mat's special night. Were you up making wedding plans?"

"Starting to," I murmured.

"You're going to need a wedding photographer, you know."

"Oh honey, that's sweet of you to offer, but you're in the wedding too, you and Carmen--"

"No, I meant Val. Robert's daughter. I bet she could use the work."

"Oh! Yes! Yes, I didn't think about that. That's a great idea." I rubbed her back. "Come sit with me and help your old man out a little?"

"Of course!" She let go of me and leaned up to kiss my cheek, then she took my hand and led me back into the house, turning off the garage light on the way. "I bet Val would trade taking photos for help designing a website and business cards."

"Maybe. It wouldn't hurt to ask, but she might need the cash a bit more. We'll see."

"This is going to be so much fun though! Planning the wedding." She grabbed my arm and gave it a shake. "I can't believe you're getting married!"

I put my arm around her and hugged her to my side. "Me too!"

Amanda grabbed her soda and one of the dining room chairs and came over to sit by me, and for the next hour or so we quietly talked wedding and honeymoon plans. She would probably be heading back to college not long after the wedding. From how things fell on the calendar, our one year anniversary was going to fall on a Monday, which was awkward. We might have to rethink that by a couple days.

I didn't sleep well, with everything going through my head, but when I heard Mat's alarm go off I made sure that I did what I always did and rolled over to snuggle up and spoon him, while he did what he always did and checked his phone.

"Amanda's dating Pablo," I mumbled into his shoulder.

"What!" he whispered in bewilderment. "Babe, that's crazy. Are you sure you're all the way awake? Maybe you're still dreaming."

"Uh-uh. I caught her coming out of the garage last night talking to him on the phone. She said she didn't tell me because Pablo asked her not to. He thought I was going to pull the psycho dad act on him."

"You? Really?"

"I know. It actually kind of hurt that he thought that," I pouted.

"Wow. Amanda and Pablo. I uh...I have to say that thought honestly never crossed my mind."

"Me neither." In the metaphorical light of day it felt weird all over again. Like I'd imagined the whole thing.

"Still, I don't know, they'd make a pretty cute couple. I wouldn't worry about it, babe."

"They spend most of the year a thousand miles away from each other."

Mat shrugged, though not enough to dislodge me. "They'll make it or they won't. First loves rarely do." He added, "You and Alex notwithstanding."

"We were a lot older." And maybe Alex had been my first love, my first everything, but I hadn't been his. I kissed his shoulder. "But you're right. I shouldn't worry so much about this."

Mat set his phone on the table then carefully rolled over to face me. " _Are_ you worried?"

"Not...really. I just don't want either of them to get hurt, but maybe that's unavoidable. When you're a normal young person who does normal young adult things like dating. I've...um, really got no frame of reference."

He clucked his tongue and said in a gently scolding tone, "It was normal for you, sweetheart. Believe me, you didn't miss out on much." He kissed me then gently squished my cheeks and cooed, "We're getting married!"

"We are!" I cooed back, as best I could through fish lips. We smooched then put our arms around each other and generally acted gross and in love.

I ended up getting up with him, and getting in the shower with him. He was a bit funky from being stressed out the night before, and I had morning breath and didn't smell so great myself. Showering together did what it often did in the morning, and as often followed we got back into bed afterward to show each other just how in love and happy we were.

We were so in love and so happy. I never thought I could feel like this again. I'd thought when Alex died that I would never even be able to bring myself to smile for the rest of my life. It had taken me nearly two years to be able to think about being with someone again. It had taken Mat.

Mat. Mat Mat Mat. I had so much to be grateful to him for. His gentle persistence and tender heart had healed me in ways that all the therapy in the world wouldn't have, though the therapy had certainly helped me believe that I was worth his love and deserved to be happy. And I was! I was ridiculously happy. There would be bumps in the road from time to time, my brothers being three of those bumps, but at least I was at a point in my life where I fully believed that I could manage them. As long as I had Mat, I felt like I could manage anything.

I would always have Mat, and he would always have me. We would always have each other. Grow old together. Watch our daughters turn into amazing young women together. Fate would be kind to us this time. Fate would let us be happy. Fate would let me keep Mat, and Mat keep me.

As I kissed him goodbye and watched him walk down the sidewalk in the dark, I knew that this time everything would work out. He stopped at the corner as he always did and blew me a kiss. I caught it and put it in my nonexistent shirt pocket, and he grinned at me then continued on his way.

Sometimes...just sometimes, Fate was kind.


End file.
